DC 03: Wonder Woman, The Mightiest Amazon
by byronthedeadpoet
Summary: The origins and early deeds of the Princess of the Amazons. The Third Part of my Trinity Trilogy.
1. Chapter 1: Paradise

Hippolyta stood her ground. The sword in her hand was heavy, though she held it ready, for her arm was but tired from many hours of battle. Her will was mighty, and though she could not deny the imperfections of her mortal body, she knew she would stand until her dying breath if she must.

"Come, woman," cried the madman who bore a long spear in one hand and a guttering torch aloft in the other. "Take your rightful place! Before me, on your knees!"

He leered at her, his wide smile little more than a broad baring of teeth.

"The War God commands it!" he bellowed, flicks of spittle flying and drilling his chin.

Hippolyta glared with more heat and hate than she had ever laid upon any man, "You are no Ares! There is no God's Grace about you, no touch of the Divine in your move or flesh. You have butchered my sisters for sport, for more game and less gain, and these senseless murders are on your head! By Hera, you shall pay for your crimes against the Amazons! You will pay, and you will die."

She rushed him, her sword clutched in both hands, though only the remnants of her broken shield still hung at her wrist. She turned her weapon downward, catching the spear perfectly upon her blade. Driving in, she turned the spear to sweep aimlessly above her head as she scored down the shaft, her sword coming to bear at his head. The instant before she could reach his manic face, he punched the torch at her like a blade, twisting it up and under her hunched torso, catching her below the breastplate, and with a sudden and horrifying swiftness, her undertunic caught flame.

The fire licked up her skin, charring and searing as it went, leaving her writhing, the heat burning the very air so that her lungs began to blacken as she breathed.

She rolled, the loose dirt shifting, and she grabbed great fistfuls and tried to smother the flames. Finally, she extinguished the fire, rolling onto her back to not weigh upon her burns. It was then that the madman's blow fell. Ignoring her breastplate, he drove low, cruelly and purposeful striking his spear down through her abdomen, right where a child would be bore.

"You and your kind are weak," he said through clenched teeth, his eyes goggling. "You are nothing but a lowly whore who is best suited beneath me. Though I will settle for putting you between my boot."

Hippolyta glared around her cries of pain and the trickle of blood she coughed forth. With no wasted effort, she drove her sword to the hilt into his eye.

"I think you'll find," she gasped, "that you are beneath me, filth."

She threw his limp body to the side as he fell, the spear still within her. She could neither move nor properly breathe, for the tip had exited her back and pinned her to the earth. She laid for what seemed an age, her mind sharp with the pain and numb to the world for loss of blood. She knew only that the battle raged on around her, and that she could not assist her sisters as she yearned desperately to. At long last, she was visited by her shield sisters, her seconds in battle, who brought her aid.

The healers came, but there was little hope. They drew out the spear and closed the wound as best they could, but the smell was telling and soon talk turned to ending her suffering.

"Hera will provide," intoned Hippolyta.

After their first attempt to give her drink, they desisted when she spat it back up, mixed with more blood than water. They did not attempt food, and her bandages were changed as soon as they were soiled through, which was often. And still, through it all, through the eventually shakes, the fever, the pallor that robbed her of life's luster, Hippolyta intoned, "Hera shall provide."

A day slipped away, and then a second, and a third. The intoned words became quieter, less coherent, the sickness raging, leaving little chance at life. Upon the third night, while her handlers and healers slept, even the hopeless watcher, Hippolyta pulled herself from her bed. She pulled away the bedding that had plastered itself to her wounds, as though imploring her to stay, and walked, trembling and staggering and occasionally falling, out of the tent they had erected around her. She spent many hours forcing her way down to the beach, where water joined earth.

"I know you have not forsaken me, Great Hera," Hippolyta breathed. "I come to your place, the place where Amazons are born, to the place where you are strongest, so that you may work your will, should I be worthy."

She dug a birthing rut, soft sand that is yet still rough, as was the rite and the right first experience for warrior women or their sons. With hands she could barely control, she pushed a large amount of sand back within the rut and sculpted it, giving it a newborn's shape. Despite her unsure hands, the child's visage was cherubic and wondrous, taking Hippolyta's breath away. She pressed a finger into her wound, suppressing her cry as she found fresh flowing blood, and with the gentleness of a kiss upon fresh born flesh, touched the blood upon the child's forehead. The star-shaped smear soaked into the sand, and Hippolyta lifted her creation upwards toward the heavens, which remained miraculously intact for being naught by wet sand.

There was a sound upon the wind, as though of distant birdsong, and as the rich sound fell away, so did the cast of sand from about the daughter in her hands.

She had a wash of dark hair, very lustrous and with a noticeable wave even though it was so short. Her eyes shone like the brilliant sky on a clear day over the sea, and though she was but only born, she had thin rows of flawless teeth.

Hippolyta bared her breast, marred and cracked and waxy with her burns though it was. And yet, milk dribbled, and the child suckled with innocent acceptance at the garish flesh.

Tying the child to her chest, Hippolyta stood with renewed strength.

"Great Hera," she spoke again, her voice sure and impassioned, "I ask of only one last favor, should that it cost me my life; for the life of my daughter and my warriors, grant us a refuge from all men, so that we may practice our ways and yours in peace and without harassment."

There was a long moment of silence, and then, with a rending that shook the very world, a portal appeared, showing a way to an island that could not but be called paradise.

In a trice, Hippolyta returned to her sisters in arms and roused them from sleep. All saw her returned vigor and her child and could see the touch of Hera at work and held all question, following her commands for breaking camp and departure.

As they approached the beach, they marveled at the way to their new home, as much as at the island itself. Without hesitation, they marched through, and as they embarked upon the opposing beach, the way closed behind them.

Those that were wounded, save for Hippolyta herself, slept on as the camp was set, once again just off the beach. She led the exploration party, which marched for the rest of the night and the following day, but had not found the island's other end. What they did find was everything they could have asked for.

The island was vibrant with life. Any plant that could be asked for in terms of food, medicine, remedy, or material was present and abundant. Any animal they might employee was there, and any animal they might hunt for food, any predator to test their might and cull the weak from the wild herds was also present. Every desirable landscape was abounding, fresh water from clean springs, ample swimming holes, fields to be farmed, space for villages and arenas, mountains to climb, jungles to explore, beaches to run, any and all was provided.

"Praise Hera," each whispered as they passed each new wonder. But as they found a chief and central site that could easily house a village amidst a particularly desirable local dense with all they could desire., they stopped their exploration for a time and turned back to gather the rest of their people.

While their supplies were meager and the wounded moved slowly, they were able to forage as they went and found their way to the land that was to be their home. The herbs and medicines they procured and used were hardy and sped their recoveries, and everyone took a hand in the work. The land was tilled, huts were built and then steadily replaced by more enduring homes. Buildings for crafts and trades were made, and impermanent housing was set up for schooling as well as fighting. Storage was created, animals tamed and healers began their tutelage. Everything was well.

It was nearly six months time when Hippolyta stood, watching the new forge being bricked that was of sufficient quality to begin work on the temple that had yet to be built when she looked down and found her daughter walking towards the workers. She had gained her independence and thus was to be named. And, as was the way of the Amazons, was named with a mothers necessity to give voice to who the child was by calling to her at the distance that there was now between them, making her freely known to all. Hippolyta called intuitively and without forethought.

"Diana!" she said with the authority to halt a horse. "Return this way."

And Diana did, as she did most things, with a smile.


	2. Chapter 2: Purpose

"That's not fair!" cried Alexa. "She's too fast!"

"Don't be sour, Alexa," said Artemis. "Racing someone who is faster than you gives you something to strive for."

Alexa huffed as she tried to keep up with Artemis, "I can... only strive... if I... had a chance... of winning!"

Diana exulted at her victory as she skidded to a near halt as she rounded the boulder and headed for the swimming hole. By the time the other girls reached her, she was already stripped down and swimming lazy circles in the cool water.

"Pride cometh," said Persephone said absently.

Diana laughed, "What does that even mean?"

"It's just something my mother says," said Persephone, "when she thinks I need to be put in my place."

"And where is my place, oh wise and noble Persephone!" called Diana goodnaturedly.

Persephone smiled in spite of herself, "The Gods only know!"

The girls joined her in the water, swimming languorously at a relaxed pace.

"Have you decided upon your purpose?" asked Alexa eagerly.

Diana's face twisted in mock exasperation, "I have not. You'd know if I had. It isn't as though you constantly asking all of us what we think we will be or anything."

"A warrior," said Artemis.

"A gardener," said Persephone.

"A librarian," said Alexa.

"And I have no idea," said Diana with real exasperation and a laugh.

"We are all coming to an age where we are expected to do more than just learn about battle and do our chores," said Alexa. "We have had seven years to fight and learn and grow. If you don't know already, maybe you should visit the Oracle."

Diana soaked her long blue black locks and ran her fingers through her streaming hair.

"I don't know," she said, a note of vulnerability in her voice. "I'm the queen's daughter. Shouldn't I figure this out on my own?"

Persephone laughed, "Why on Themyscira would you do that?"

Artemis shook her head, "Can a single warrior defeat an army?"

"She could if that warrior is you, Artemis," teased Diana.

"Very true," said Artemis, "but my point remains. And for the sake of humility, I must state that it depends on the army."

"You cannot do everything," said Alexa, "and neither can the Queen. Ask of those who know what you do not as the hungry ask for food. Asking cost nothing. To not ask could mean starvation."

Diana smiled, "I have wise friends. Truly. Thank you. I shall go at once."

Diana walked out of the water, allowing droplets to run freely and the sun dried her. Redressing, she ran back to the village, greeting everyone she met by name and ran straight to the temple where her mother spent her afternoons in service to Hera.

The stone masons had done their work and done it well. The Temple of Hera was finer than any the Amazons had ever seen, and they kept it as well kept as their faith. The pillared temple was opened to the sky, allowing light upon the small, impeccably looked-after grove of pomegranate trees. Peacocks and peahens wondered about, nesting in the trees and fearless of those who walked about in theirs labors.

Diana walked carefully and respectfully to the Temple's main alter, finding her mother opening a pomegranate to read the signs, the Oracle at her side.

The Oracle was unmistakably not a young woman. She had silver white hair and her skin had a worn look to it. However, there was a certain ageless quality about her, and her skin had not an elderly wrinkle nor age spot nor any flaw or mark that would note her as old. Despite having no marring signs of age, she was cloaked in a matronly air, her golden green eyes wise and kind.

"You are putting too much of yourself into the rite," said The Oracle. "Every detail of opening the fruit and noting its contents is important to divining Hera's will and intentions. If you force the fruit to open when it does not want to, you blur the message. You need patience and a gentle hand, as well as a keen eye and a quick wit."

"I think I will have little skill at this art," said Hippolyta with a brief smile. "Vagaries are very much the bane of leadership. I prefer questions that have answers."

"The simplest life may be one of comfort," said The Oracle sagely, "but knowing when The Gods wish for you to step away from that which brings us comfort for the sake of others as well as for ourselves is a testament to a woman's true wisdom."

Hippolyta's smile became a bit wry, "I have not said that I am finished with this work. I shall still give my task all the attention it deserves."

It was then that the two discovered their audience.

"Princess Diana," said The Oracle. "To what do we owe this unexpected pleasure?"

Diana felt a bit wrong-footed, but pressed on, "I am here to gain knowledge about my fate."

While The Oracle looked mildly surprised, Hippolyta nodded with satisfaction at her daughter.

"To what end?" asked The Oracle, her mean suddenly serious.

Diana chose her words carefully, "I have yet to choose my purpose, and I want to make the right decision."

Hippolyta looked as though she were about to speak, but The Oracle stepped forward. Kneeling before the child, she looked Diana full in the face for a long moment before saying, "What happens if you make a wrong decision?"

Diana frowned, "I am not sure."

"That much is surely certain," smiled The Oracle, standing. She nodded to Hippolyta, who bowed and walked to a different part of the temple.

"Child," said The Oracle. "What you ask is impossible. You cannot avoid your fate any more than you can be a different person. It is not the destination that defines you, nor the journey you take. It is how you make your journey and why. It is not what happens to you in life, but the choices you make that make you who you are."

Diana considered this, "Then, would it not be best to make the best decision you can?"

"Indeed," chuckled The Oracle, "but expecting more of yourself than you are capable of is not only irrational but also unfair to yourself."

"But," Diana replied, her eyebrows drawn, "if I cannot expect more of myself, how can I ever grow to be more than what I am?"

The Oracle stared for a long moment, as though trying to make sense of what her ears heard and her eyes saw. Finally, she said, "Knowledge and fearlessness, child. The more knowledge you possess, the more choices you can perceive. And the more mistakes you make, without fear, then you know what choices will not make you happy."

Diana thought about this, "But which decision is the best one?"

"I cannot answer that, child," said the Oracle, "for I am not you. Only you can decide what is best for yourself. Only you can know which path is right for you."

Diana stood for a long moment, her attention on her own thoughts.

"Thank you," she said at long last. "I know what I must do."

Diana spent the following days in service to the village or chores as it was often called by the children who did them.

She guided the horses, plowing the fields, and did so with a steadier and more skill than any other child her age. She spent time before the milling stone, from which she could powder more grain than any two of her peers. She split wood with more precision than many of the Amazons. She tossed more hay, hauled more goods, constructed more secure baskets, weaved better linens, pulled more water, drove more skilled carts, read and transcribe more scrolls, hued and carved more stone, molded and fired better pots, and forged purer metals than just about anyone many magnitudes her age. She understood each chore, each service and could see the artistry of each, the importance of the tasks and could respect it and be content doing each as needed for the rest of her days. After as many days as labors tried, Diana still felt that she was no nearer her purpose than when her trials began.

At long last, she joined Artemis for her morning swim, twice the length that most of the girls ten years their senior could swim and kept up easily. Neither said anything aside from a greeting until the swim was over. Upon finishing, Artemis turned her attention to Diana as she beat the water out of her light red-brown hair and tied it back.

"Why have you taken so long to test yourself as a warrior?" she asked directly.

Diana smiled at her friend, but there was a brittleness to the smile.

"Is it that obvious?" Diana asked, brushing some if the excess water off her skin.

"Not to most of us," said Artemis. "Only those that know you well. Are you afraid?"

Diana became confused, "Afraid of what?"

"Some people don't like combat," said Artemis. "Alexa, for example."

"It isn't that," said Diana, dry enough to put her clothing back on. "I suppose, I do not want to fight. I have wrestled, we all have, and I have made a sword and seen how to wield one, but I am not... sure about using one. I am not afraid. It is all just, new to me, and I know that there is no more powerful act than taking another's life."

Artemis nodded but said nothing. The two ran together, and Diana barely had to slow to keep to Artemis's pace. At last, they came to the arena, joining the other girls.

Of all the nearly four dozen young women there, Diana was certainly the youngest, since she was the youngest child on the paradise island of Themyscira. She and Artemis were among the youngest, the oldest unblooded in their early twenties, lean, tall, and well muscled. They wore the traditional Amazonian armor; breastplate, bracers, leather skirt, and sandals. The younger still wore tunics, like Diana and Artemis, but some bore scars, and proudly.

Antiope stepped to the head of the group, the eldest of the Warrior Amazons, a title and rank of great prestige. She surveyed the group for barely a moment, then glanced at her second, a wordless communication.

"New Blood!" the second called. "Step forward!"

Diana, who had been at the back of the group, walked to the front of the front line. Her pace was not brisk but was in no way hesitant. Many eyes fell upon her, for though she was young, she was tall and strong, and it was more than well known whose daughter she was.

As soon as she was at the front, Antiope approached her. She walked around Diana, inspecting her frame, her proportions, her reach, her musculature, and nodding at each in turn.

"Why are you here?" she asked, and her voice was clipped, as though she purposely shorten her words to save breath and time.

Diana stood straight and spoke loudly, "To learn how to become a warrior."

A hum of noise rippled through the crowd, mostly breaths and low laughed, though nothing was heard from the Blooded Warriors.

Antiope glanced towards the ranks and they fell silent almost instantly. Turning to the nearest tunic wearing Amazon, she asked, "How long have you been a warrior?"

"Six years," she answered without hesitation.

Antiope moved to the next, "And you?"

"Five years," she answered.

So it went, down the lines, until she reached the Blooded Warriors.

"And how long have you been a warrior?" she asked.

"Since birth," she answered.

She moved to the next, no longer needed to ask the question allowed.

"My whole life."

"I have never not been a warrior."

"Since conception."

"Always."

And so on down the lines, until she turned and began walking back.

"To be a warrior is not something you can learn," Antiope said in her clipped way. "Either you are or you are not. The warrior in you may be buried deep, and it may be nearly impossible to get to her, but if she is there, she always has been, and is there a nobler calling than finding her?"

"No!" all the warriors said as one.

"To be a warrior is not the easy pursuit of a life of simplicity," she continued. "Being a warrior means giving up the banes of life; ceaseless repetition, acting without reflection, complacency, stagnation, doubt, regret, fear. By giving up these things, we can grow. Stronger, wiser, more powerful, better than our previous selves. We thrill at every challenge, view any shortcomings as an opportunity for growth, and find faith in ourselves."

She turned to Diana, at last.

"Are you afraid?" she asked.

Diana stood tall and proud.

"Yes," she said.

Again, there was a rustling of voices from the warriors about her. Again, nothing came from the Blooded.

"Of what?" asked Antiope, her voice sharp but not harsh.

Diana thought and chose her words carefully.

"I am afraid that I will have no taste for battle," she stated. "I am afraid that taking a life means being like the men that we came to this island to escape. I am afraid that my respect for life will mean I shall be unable to do what is necessary in combat. And I am afraid that my fate will be chosen for me."

The crowd did not murmur again.

Antiope seemed satisfied somehow, but again walked to the Blooded Warriors.

"Have you taken a life?" she asked.

"Yes," said the warrior.

"And why?" asked Antiope.

"Because I chose to," said the Warrior.

And so it went.

"Yes, because it was the right thing to do."

"Yes, because those who could not protect themselves were in danger."

"Yes, because action was needed, so I acted."

"Yes, because I was stronger and meant to live."

And on and on.

Finally, Antiope spoke again, "What is murder?"

Diana replied, "It is the death of someone who does not deserve to die."

"Wrong," Antiope bit back. "Nothing deserves to die. Life is both limited and invaluable, and yet it ends every day. All the time."

"Surely," said Diana, cutting in, "it is not the same. Surely there is a difference between life ending, and taking life."

A few of the Blooded soldiers looked uneasy for the first time, and Diana could tell from the silent shock that passed over the tunic-clad Warriors that she had done something unwise.

Antiope seemed completely unfazed, "Yes. There is. However, to say that there is one truth to this question is to generalize and to invite action without reflection. To end life is wasteful and should never be done lightly, but there still exist circumstances in which taking a life is the right thing to do. The two notions are not mutually exclusive. So, when do we take a life?"

Diana said nothing, but Antiope continued to look at her and refused to continue until Diana spoke.

"Because we choose to," she said.

"Exactly," replied Antiope. "We make the decision that a life needs to be taken. We do not do so lightly, and only after we have decided it is the right course of action."

There was a short pause, after which Antiope looked to her second.

"Diana," the second said loudly. "Come forward."

Diana walked to stand beside the longest-lived Amazon Warrior, turning to face the rest of the Warriors.

"Who volunteers for first combat with this New Blood?"

No one spoke immediately, but finally, Artemis said, "I do not."

"What was that?" asked Antiope.

"I know my limits," the young girl said. "I cannot beat Diana in fair combat."

More than a few of the non Blooded Warriors looked surprised, others skeptical, and still more looked weary at this revelation.

"I will fight her," said a girl easily five years older than Diana. She was stout and well muscled, looking a bit mean. Diana sized her up and knew that she was tough, ruthless, and obstinate. She also knew that she could beat her.

The warriors made a Round, shoulder to shoulder, large enough for adult fighters to move comfortably within. Diana and her opponent, whose name was Kuria, came forward and clasped forearms. Though her arm was larger than Diana's, she was pleased to see the older girl's eyes go just noticeably wide as she felt Diana's. There was a pause as they both stepped back and settled into their footing.

"Begin!" called Antiope's second, and a moment after her words died away, Kuria hit the ground hard enough for the wind to be knocked out of her.

Everyone stared. Not one spoke, not until Antiope raised a hand and pointed, "You and you."

Two girls came forward, both larger than Kuria. They stood, ready, then both came at Diana with a nod from Antiope, who was standing behind Diana's back and gave her no warming.

Diana stepped to the outside of one girl's cross punch. Grabbing her wrist, she leveraged herself around, running up the other girl's body, kicking her with ever step. She curved around, landing on the first girl's back, locking her legs around her frame, and elbowing her in the back of the head with just enough force to stun. She rolled as the girl fell, maintaining her personal momentum to carry her back onto her feet, pivoting back to the two girls, ready for more. Both girls stayed on the ground.

Antiope turned to her second, "Get her an Apprentice's bracers."

"But she isn't-," began the second, but bit her tongue and fetched them herself.

Diana had never worn such armor before, and though they fit poorly, they seemed to suit her somehow. They were heavy, but it felt comfortable, not slowing her movements the way it would most people. She watched with some trepidation as three girls who were all at least twice her weight came forth with long staves of polished and bound wood, surrounding her without a word.

Again, they came on without a warning, and Diana had them in short order. She disarmed the first by diving under her, grabbing the back end of the staff, pulling it back between her legs and twisting her off her feet. Taking the weapon, she traded blows with the other two as she dispatched the first with a few kicks. Then, turning her full attention to the others, she used the staff to launch herself into the second girl, taking her down before she hit the ground, and using her staff to block the last blow from the third, she dropped the staff so she could roll down under her guard and kick her legs out from under her, meeting the girl's downward momentum with her rising fist.

Rolling the last off of her, Diana stood, just in time to block the oncoming staff upon her bracer. The next three girls had come on, one with the staff, another with a net, and the last a spear. They came at her and as she rolled to get space, the staff she meant to grab from the previous fight was gone. She turned and leaped, with such speed and range that the three were stunned and momentarily unmoving. She landed with uncommon grace and ease beside the spear wielder, using the bracer to hit the tip of the spear, twisting her whole body into the blow, striking with such force that the head parted from the shaft, sailed over the heads of the onlookers, and lodged into the trunk of a nearby tree. Grabbing the tunic of the broken spear wielder, she twisted downward, pulling her over her shoulder and down into the path of the sailing net. Rolling out from under the edge before it fell around her opponent, Diana pulled up the broken spear as a staff.

The net warrior flanked her as the first with the staff came directly at her. She used her own staff to keep the unarmed warrior at bay while using her bracers to defend again the staff fighter's blows. She watched and learned, allowing the fight to drag out, and no matter how hard they fought, they couldn't find a single opening and their endurance flagged while hers never wavered. Finally, she threw her staff into the air, spinning parallel to the ground, so suddenly and that such speed both girls' eyes followed it. She used the opening to incapacitate them both in a trice.

She turned and found that she had only a single opponent next. She was a Blooded Warrior. Fully armored, carrying a large shield on one arm, a spear in her hand, and a bronze sword at her hip. She struck a pose, her shield risen, the spear laid across the top to point at Diana. A power that spoke of courage and understanding was alight in her eyes, a knowledge of the struggle of life and death, from which she had survived, the victor.

Diana was not cowed. She watched and could see no flaw she could exploit, no doubt in the other's motions. She could not win through superior skill.

"Hera," she whispered. "Give me strength."

And, for the first time since she uttered those words to herself, she felt a response. She felt surety fill her, overflow her. It was as though she was swelling, overfull, not the fullness that comes from food or breath, nor the flow and rush of mind, but somehow deeper, other, as though her heart, her soul was bursting with a power she knew not how to channel.

She stood taller, more determined than she ever had. She walked forward with a casual nonchalance that would have been disarming if it wasn't for the stark contrast of the pace when compared to her expression. She swatted aside the spear with the thought and easy of brushing away a fly. The shield whipped through the air, striking her in the face and about the head, once, twice, three times, each blow stronger and with less restraint than the last. Each attack could have felled a warrior, denting metal and skulls alike, but no mark was left upon the Princess, no distortion of any kind. Before the next blow could land, she head butted the shield away, the jarring sound of impact echoing back from the neighboring hillsides. The sword was drawn and met Diana's bracers to no effect, finally twisted around and out of the Warrior's grip. Reaching forward, Diana grabbed her by the belt, lifting her one-handed bodily up into the air, holding her above her head, one-handed, and finally throwing her beyond the round to land and skid a few of her lengths to stop, panting and battered.

Diana stared for a long moment, her eyes wide. The warriors and New Bloods alike stared with a look of awe that wasn't without misgivings. She stood for another breath, then turned and ran.


	3. Chapter 3: Calling

Diana sat on the beach, looking up at the cloudless night's sky. The stars twinkled and the peace she usually felt in their presence did not find her. She watched the moon for a while and could not decide what she should do or how she felt.

"Diana?" came Alexa's voice.

She looked up to find the smaller girl walking out of the foliage, a pack slung across her narrow shoulders. She dropped it at the tree line and walked down to where Diana sat.

"Are they very angry with me?" asked Diana, her voice even, if not calm.

"They aren't angry," said Alexa, sitting close but not touching her. "I'm sure your mother would like you to come home, but they do not want you to come back until you are ready."

Diana laughed, "I'm not sure when that will be."

Alexa nodded at the pack, "There are two bedrolls and enough food and water for three days in there. Six, if I go back without eating. I can bring you more if that isn't enough time."

Diana looked at her friend, so touched that he voice trembled as she said, "You don't have to leave."

Alexa smiled back, "I just want to help you, Diana. If I can do that here, I will, and if I can do that by going, I will. You are important and I'm here for you."

"We all are."

Diana did not need to turn to know that Persephone would be walking up behind Artemis.

"Hippolyta wanted me to come alone," said Alexa, sounding a bit defensive.

"What she said," said Persephone, "was that it might be easier if you went alone. But you aren't the only one who cares about Diana."

Diana smiled briefly at her friends, touching hands with each in turn, "Thank you."

"Now," said Artemis, sitting straight, "why are you out here?"

Diana took a deep breath.

"I'm trying to understand what exactly happened," she said, "and what it means to me. About me."

Artemis nodded, "What happened is that you defeated an armed and armored Blooded Warrior wearing only bracers, without any instruction, upon your first day as a novice. You could be offered Blooded status this minute and no one would find fault in that."

Diana fought a smile, "Very true. But my point remains. And for the sake of humility, I must state that Hera answered my call for aid."

There was a long silence.

"What I did," said Diana, "isn't possible without divine intervention. But I can understand that. What I don't understand is that I enjoyed it."

"Why should that matter?" asked Alexa.

Diana pinched up a handful of sand and let it flow out from between her fingers, "I had power over others, used that power to defeat them, often in ways that showed how easy it was for me to do so, and I enjoyed it. Is that not the very definition of corruption, of amorality, of evil?"

"From a certain point of view, yes," said Artemis. "But the perspective is yours. You can choose another."

Diana laughed, "Like that? It's so simple?"

"And," piped up Alexa, "isn't looking at evil deeds as though they are not evil the norm for the truly evil?"

Persephone giggled, "Why don't you tell us, oh great librarian!?"

Alexa blushed and the other girls laughed.

Diana brushed some of the sand off her legs, "I want to be happy and to enjoy my life, but at what price?"

Artemis spoke up, "Are you hurting anyone?"

"Yes!" said Diana, humor and exasperation equal parts in that one word.

"Are you hurting anyone without their consent?" asked Persephone.

Diana considered, "No. I guess not."

"Everyone has the will to do what they wish," said Alexa. "If you believe it is moral to allow free will, then nothing you have done today is wrong."

Diana nodded, but then asked, "What do you mean, 'if I believe'? It is moral to allow free will. Isn't it?"

Artemis sat straighter, "If we let everyone do everything they want, we wouldn't have warriors to defend the defenseless."

Finally, at last, Diana began to understand. She had undeniable power, even now. She had used it to defeat her foes. She had seen how easy it was, to do it, how powerful it made her feel. If there were others in the world who could do the same thing she did, they wouldn't necessarily ask if what they did was wrong. People had the right to make their own decisions, but not when it took away the rights of others. If someone abused their power, there would need to be consequences for those actions; they would need to be stopped. And Diana could be the one to stop them.

"You are my sisters, truly," she said. "I want nothing more than to be a warrior, but now I understand why."

Artemis nodded, "It is the very soul of the warrior to question her every deed to ensure that it is just. You are wise to wait until you understood."

"But," Diana said, standing, "how can I be sure that I am not being unjust? If it is easy to shift one's perspective, then how can I truly know if I am being evil if I choose not to see it?"

"Simple," said Persephone. "Surround yourself with companions who are like-minded, who know justice and well help you keep the path."

Diana's hands went out, taking Alexa in her arms. With her gaze and gestures, she invited them all in, and they stood, embracing in the starlight.

"You keep me on my path," she said of her friends. "I am blessed to have you."

They spent the night together, camping on the beach. When they returned the next morning, Hippolyta, Antiope, and the Oracle were waiting for them.

"Diana," said Antiope, "the Queen would like a word with you."

The girls stood with their friend until she nodded them off and they returned to their duties.

Diana walked with her three patrons into The Temple, and they stopped within the main courtyard.

"What happened?" asked Hippolyta, and though her words were not cold, they were firm and in no way kindly.

"One of my warriors is injured due to you, New Blood," said Antiope. "If I hadn't seen it myself, I wouldn't have believed it. It was the stuff of legends."

Diana was feeling defensive, but she kept her head, "I fought and won."

Antiope guffawed a brief laugh, "You did, at that."

Diana nodded, "Hera answered my call. I prayed to Her and She answered. I owe my victory to Her, Be Praised."

Diana bowed towards the shrine at the far end of the courtyard and felt a gentle warm swim through her body, along with a subtle feeling she took to be satisfied gratitude.

Hippolyta mirrored her daughter before turning to Antiope, "I do not want my daughter to be a warrior. That was why I wanted our people to come to Themyscira in the first place; so that there would be no cause for wars."

Antiope's lips thinned as they pressed together, muting some of the scars about her mouth, "You have been too long away from battle, my Queen. There will always be a need for war, if only to cull the weak and cruel. The best sword cannot be forged without slag."

Hippolyta eyes matched her sharp words, "I need no reminders of my fight. I bare the mark of it every day. I would spare the princess of-"

"Of what?" asked Antiope. "Of fighting? Of battle? Or of the world?"

Hippolyta didn't look pleased, "Mind yourself."

"Oh," said Antiope, "you know I mean no disrespect. Who but I could be so forthright with you, sister?"

The Oracle stepped forward, "I believe you all are missing the point; we cannot know the true desires of The Goddess, nor do we have the right to question them. What we can ask is what the Princess wants."

Diana nodded her thanks, "I want to be a warrior."

"I disagree," said Hippolyta. "Of all the things this village, this island has to offer you, why be a warrior?"

Diana inhaled for her vehement and loud retort when The Oracle took her breath away.

"Actually," she said, "that's a fair question."

Diana came up short and stared, a look of surprised wonder on her face.

"There are many pursuits on this island that you could thrive pursuing," said The Oracle. "Yet you have decided to engage in the one least necessary for our life here. You have chosen a way of life that involves violence, pain, hardships, and possible death, even for one as skilled as you. Why?"

Diana stood for a long moment, looking at each in turn. She considered her words for ten breaths, then spoke.

"I have no justification for what I want," she said, her gaze unwavering, "that won't be just that: a justification. I have no explanations or reasoning or arguments. I simply know, to the core of who I am, that this is what I want. And, until that changes, I will do everything in my power to pursue it."

"This is unnecessary," said Hippolyta. "There is no more need for warriors."

The Oracle stood fast, placing her hand upon her eyes and tilting her head heavenward, "It is not our place to question the inwspirations of The Gods. A purpose may be found without need. We must have faith in The Goddess. She knows best."

Hippolyta folded. In that single motion, all the hardened fight went out of her.

"You are right," she said, releasing a sigh that was part chuckle. "I am but a foolish mother."

"We all are at times," said Antiope. "At least she is actually of your flesh."

The Oracle nodded to Diana, "You make take your leave."

Diana smiled and walked quickly, if still respectfully, out of The Temple.

"She is going to be a handful, that one," said Antiope. "She is good, and the best are usually the most prideful. Wouldn't you agree, my Queen?"

Hippolyta was not able to completely suppress her smile, but it left her face a moment later, a shock replacing it. Beneath the pomegranate tree gleamed silver and gold.

"By The Gods," said Hippolyta, walking forward, "what are these?"

Lying upon the roots were several objects of undeniably divine origins. A length of cord, liken to spun gold, was looped into a lasso, thin and fine enough to be held swinging in a single fist. Beside that were silver armaments, bracers, and a plated girdle, as well as a golden starred tiara. All were precious only in material and functional in every other regard. To their left was a shield that looked as though it was hewn and carved from bronze, but had a denser, more resilient look about it. And lastly, to the right was a sheathed sword, which's handle was a hand and a half, longer and slightly broader than Greek soldier's traditional second weapon, made in style to match the other garb.

"These are for the Princess," said The Oracle, her words with that half distant surety that those who knew her associated with providence.

"If they are for Diana," said Hippolyta, "wouldn't they have appeared when she was here to receive them?"

Antiope smiled, "Not if they weren't for her yet."

"I couldn't agree more," said The Oracle. "We are meant to know they exist and that they are for Diana. Hera has granted us their keeping, knowing that we will give them to Diana in her time of need."

Hippolyta nodded, "Praise be to Hera. I bow to her wisdom. I pray only that the Princess has time yet to enjoy her youth before her calling finds her."


	4. Chapter 4: The Visitor

Artemis struck hard and fast. Her blow lanced briskly off the edge of Diana's blade, barely connecting as it slid past it's intended target. At the last possible second, Diana spun inside the arc of the downward blow and, with relative ease, reached down and caught Artemis by the ankle. Flipping her upwards, she turned towards the others coming at her.

However, Artemis recovered. Tapping the earth with her palms, she was able to alleviate enough of her spin to get one shoulder into position, allowing her to roll and find her feet in one smooth motion. With a flick of her foot, her sword returned to her arm from the ground. Diana looked about her and knew that she wasn't skilled enough to fight them all without someone risking injury, unless...

"By Hera," she whispered.

It was all that was needed for so small a thing. She used the blunt of her bracer to knock Artemis's sword aside. Grabbing her by the tunic, she lifted her, preparing to bowl her into her allies. Artemis dropped and twisted, letting her dead weight rest on Diana's arm as she leveraged her legs up behind the other's back and crossed her ankles around Diana's throat. Impressive as this tactic was, it didn't even slow Diana down.

Meeting each in turn because they could not threaten her on mass without risk to Artemis, the other warriors were disarmed or laid low or both.

"Terrible!" called Antiope. "You traded a single life for all of yours."

"We are not skilled enough," called Kuria.

Antiope laughed, "Then become more skilled! You miss the point of this exercise entirely. It is about fighting a superior foe, pushing yourself harder, faster, braver than you ordinarily would need to, to get better."

"And what is the point of that?" asked Kuria, quietly and rhetorically. "We will never beat her."

Antiope walked forward and struck Kuria hard across the face.

"Wake up," she said, her voice even and calm.

Kuria's eyes went wide and she nodded.

"You are not here to win," said Antiope. "There is no doubt in my mind that only one of you could even pray to be a match for The Princess, and only if The Princess didn't go for the kill, and that's Artemis. Why? Because she doesn't let a little thing like losing or death stop her. She persists. She fights smarter and works harder, so when the day comes, more will fall at her hand than any of yours. Battle is always about numbers, and Diana is the better of all of you, together and outright. You all are only fighting her; learn from her too."

Kuria glared, but Diana only smiled.

Diana had certainly grown throughout her youth. She was tall, broad of shoulder and hip, well muscled, and though she was handsome, her beauty too was radiant and undeniable. The older and nostalgic looked upon her with longing, and those who kept the company of women marked her natural grace and confidence often with equal parts lust and envy. Her carefree nature was only at odds with her thrill for combat and contest, and while she reveled in the dance that was her in battle, she reveled in life as well.

She favored none and kept no romantic interests to speak of. She was less modest with her body than she was about her deeds, especially among her closest friends, though her interactions with them were always chaste and platonic. She was as ready and capable of sleeping entwined with anyone she deemed needed the comfort. While Diana was well-liked by almost everyone, there were still some who had nothing but bad grace for her looks, popularity, and deeds.

Kuria left the arena promptly and with not even a backward glance, as was her usual method of retreat.

"You might try not crushing the girl'a spirits every chance you get," said Artemis as they made their way down the beach for their evening run.

Diana huffed a laugh, "You are not so easily crushed by my same actions. If the fault lies with me, wouldn't you be hurt as well?"

Artemis was going steady, her breathing even if heavy, "Just because she is the only one who yells if you step on her toes does not mean you should keep doing it."

Diana, by contrast, might as have been strolling if her breathing rate was any indication. She thought for a long moment, considering the wisdom of this notion. It was then that everything changed.

Diana's eyes were sharper, so she spotted the aberration first.

"Wait," she said, stopping fast, feet digging into the sand as she skidded to a halt with her hand barring Artemis's chest. "There is something out there, on the beach."

Before Artemis could find a question, Diana ran, low and quiet, faster than Artemis could hope to match. She stopped just at the edge of Artemis's sight, a vague smudge far down the beach. Before she could do more than start cautiously in that general direction, Diana was coming back, even faster, all stealth forgotten. She ran right past Artemis and back to the village. She returned quickly with The Oracle, Hippolyta, and the Aged Healer, all on horseback while Diana lead the way on foot. Artemis followed, if at a slower pace, finally coming to the group after a short time had passed.

All had dismounted, Diana and the Healer kneeling upon the sand with their backs to Artemis. Around them on the beach was lumber and rope and sail, evidence of ship wreckage. Artemis didn't need to be told why they came to this place in such haste.

The child looked to be about fourteen, her golden hair awash about her head, tangled and as caked with sand as the rest of her. She wore strange clothing, though much was torn and some seemed discarded, owed no doubt to the toil of fighting waves and flotsam.

"She is breathing," said the Elder Healer. "She has been badly battered, but her life is not in danger. Once I have determined that her bones are intact, we should set a camp."

Hippolyta nodded, "Diana will stand guard."

"Guard?" asked Diana, sounding alarmed. "She is a child!"

"We don't know what she is," said Hippolyta. "I am suggesting caution, no imprisonment."

Diana nodded, and Artemis spoke, "I shall remain to complete the guard."

"Good," said Hippolyta. "I will send supplies down the beach. Oracle?"

She was standing apart with her feet in the sand, her sandals crossed beside her. She looked at the sea, looking up and down the beach, then to the trees.

"I will remain here," she said. "I feel there are important events here that I must bear witness to."

The Healer set to work as Hippolyta returned, and soon a second healer and Alexa arrived, both burdened with enough supplies for two days, including tenting and sleep rolls, as well as parchment for documentation, to which Alexa went to directly, including sketches.

"Have you ever seen evidence of anyone other than us on Themyscira?" asked Artemis.

"Not before today," said Diana. "The thought just hadn't occurred to me. Hera only knows for what purpose this child has come here now."

"She is safe to move," said The Elder.

Artemis and the second healer pitched the tent high on the beach quickly, and as they had it up, Diana saw to lifting the child.

"She's so light," said Diana. "She doesn't seem frail, but I feel as though she could stand on my outstretched palm easily without Hera's aid."

"I noticed as much," said the Elder. "I was careful as I inspected her. She doesn't seem malnourished and her bones surely are strong enough to support her weight. I have no experience with such an occurrence."

They brushed the sand from the girl, stripping her of the tattered clothing, washed her carefully with fresh water, and dressing her in a clean tunic, wrapping her in blankets. By the time they had finished their work, Alexa had a fire going in the tent and it was warm and smelled of cooking meat.

It wasn't long before the girl began to stir. The others were wary, but Diana sat patient and waiting. The girl sat bolt upright, casting off blankets as she prepared to fight, and Diana slid her hands around the girl's forearms, loose but connected, stabilizing more than restraining.

The girl calmed, then spoke in a foreign tongue. Alexa sighed, running through a series of ideas as to how to communicate with the girl, when Diana spoke the girl's strange tongue right back to her.

Every woman there stared at Diana, but the girl threw herself into Diana's arms, sobbing and speaking at length in a quavering voice. She finally silenced except for her continued whimpering cries.

"Her ship was attacked," said Diana. "They were refugees of war, her mother was her only family to survive and flee with her. But another ship found them, taking what they had and sinking their vessel in the open sea. She is likely the only survivor."

Tears flowed from Diana's eyes as she spoke. It was the first time she had heard of death occurring in her lifetime.

"How do you speak her language?" asked the Elder Healer.

"I know not," said Diana. "Her words are barbarous, but it is though Hera whispers their meaning in my ear and works my mouth to speak what I wish to say. Praised be."

"Praised be," said the rest.

"What is her name?" asked Alexa.

Diana soothed the girl and asked, and she responded Aresia.

After a nights rest, they broke camp and returned to the village, Diana and the child in the lead. As they walked amongst the other women as they went about their day, more than one halted and cast their gaze upon the oddity that was this newcomer.

They walked to the edge of The Temple, where Hippolyta stood as though waiting.

Diana bowed, "Mother. This is Aresia. She is a refugee of war, without family or solace. What is to become of her?"

Hippolyta came forward and looked at the child, who looked nervous.

"Do not be afraid," said Hippolyta, and Diana translated.

Aresia relaxed.

"What is to become of me?" she asked.

"What would you like?" asked Hippolyta.

"I wish to live," she said. "I wish to become strong, like the women I see here, so no one can ever take from me again."

Hippolyta nodded, her lips pressed, "Then you shall join us and become an Amazon of Themyscira."

Aresia adoption of the Amazons' way of life was directly overseen by Diana herself. She followed Diana everywhere, helping her in her daily work, and only when Diana was training in combat was she forced to only watch. When it came to interacting with others, Diana translated for her at first, but soon Aresia was using simple sentences and picking up words and grammar. As she worked, she grew strong, and as she ate of the fruit and food of Themyscira, she grew stronger still.

With Aresia's addition to the island, differences that all the Amazons had not noticed or taken for granted became apparent. Over the years, Aresia grew strong, as strong as any Amazon, and stronger than some. Diana theorized that the food and water of the island had a galvanizing effect, tempering them to become stronger and more fit. Aresia noted her lack of illness, and even though Diana investigated thoroughly, they could find no one who could recall a single case of sickness since they had come to Themyscira.

As the years went on and Aresia came into her prime, time's effects upon her body slowed and seemed to cease. Despite their initial differences, she and Diana appeared to be the same age, as was every person who had been younger than they were now when they came to the island. Every Amazon older than they seemed to have halted their aging the day they had arrived, though many of the elders had received a renewed vigor after staying long and eating Themyscira's food.

At length, from many conversations, Diana finally pulled out enough information to realize that many years have passed from the time of her birth since the time Aresia left the world behind, much more time than was felt by the Amazons. She told Diana of new metals, of cannons and gunpowder, of new ships and sailed seas, of having heard of far off lands, of a round world. Diana was soon enamored with the idea of what the outer world might be becoming, as well as dismayed by the suffering that this newer, deadly warring must be causing.

Finally, one day, Diana and Aresia were sparring with staves as Artemis looked on.

"Mind you guard," she called to Aresia. "It's slipping."

Diana's heavy blow staggered her as she swung her staff back into position. She struck at Diana, alternating her blows, always shifting her angle of attack, trying to catch the Princess off guard, still not understanding that Diana's reflexes were so fast that she had but to almost lazily shift her weapon to block Aresia's strikes. It was a calculated response that got the result Diana expected.

Aresia became frustrated and began throwing everything she had into a flurry of attacks. Diana met every single blow, not even needing to pushing herself to successfully defeat her offensive.

Finally, Aresia screamed, half a battle cry, half in frustration. She pulled up a knee and drew her staff across it, snapping it neatly into two batons. Whirling them around, she attacked with more diligence, able to separate her attacks from each other, making them harder to block. Diana stepped up, was about to lean on Hera's strength when Aresia did something no one had been able to do since the day Diana had become a warrior. She landed a blow on Diana.

The baton cracked into shards against Diana's cheek. Artemis cried out in surprise and victory, "Well struck!"

Diana shook off the impact almost immediately, the familiar bite of pain icing momentarily through her. Looking down, she saw a couple of shards embedded in the flesh of her shoulder. With a whisper to Hera, she quickly disarmed Aresia and the fight was over.

"Are you alright?" asked Aresia, looking contrite and self-recriminating as she saw the blooded bits of wood fairly deep in Diana's body.

She laughed heartily, deftly pulling them free, "I am well."

With a humbly requested prayer, the small wounds closed and began to heal visibly.

"I think," Aresia said uneasily, "I think I've had enough for the day. Are you sure you are alright, sister?"

Diana nodded, "I haven't had such a blow in quite some time. Be proud! Many would give much to have your skill for battle."

Aresia walked out of the practice arena, and Diana and Artemis watched her go.

"That wasn't right," said Artemis. "She shouldn't have been able to do that."

"It was a good blow," said Diana. "I wasn't in Hera's embrace."

"Still," said Artemis. "She is not skilled or powerful enough to overcome your guard, even without Hera. The staff broke upon you. Have you ever seen anyone hit anything, with only the strength of her arm behind it, and break wood from this island?"

Diana thought about it and frowned.

"Your face is bruised," said Artemis. "It's healing, but I have never seen that happen before, even when you were without our Goddess."

Diana nodded. Something was happening to Aresia. She trusted that Hera would reveal it soon, before it was too late.


	5. Chapter 5: Unearthed

"Aresia hasn't been seen for many days," said Artemis, "not since she left after your sparring match."

Diana tilted her head back, dipping her hair into the water, letting the locks slick back from her head as she rose again, the ends fanning out from her in the clear spring water.

"She has gone off on her own before," said Diana, "many times. As have I. This is no different."

"It is different," said Artemis, standing up in the waist deep water in her seriousness. "She injured you and did so through means that should be beyond her."

"No," Diana said in a tone that was as calm as Artemis' was aggressive.

"No, what?" barked Artemis.

"I will not cast suspicion on her," said the Princess. "She has done nothing that I wouldn't be willing to accept, and she has done nothing for which she should be condemned."

"But," Artemis bit back, "should she prove an enemy-"

"If she should prove an enemy," said Diana, "I will do my duty, protect our people, and end her as necessary. But until that is proven, I will not denounce her. She deserves the benefit of the doubt, even if she was not our friend."

There was a long silence. Finally, Artemis slipped back down into the water.

"Alright," she said. "Alright."

Diana smiled, "If you would like, we can search for her. She might be scared and alone, not sure if she should return. We could help her."

Alexa swam up beside them. Though she was the slimmest and smallest of the Princess's friends, the least athletic besides Persephone, she was the most at home and fastest in the water. She slid up beside them and bobbed as she settled her feet upon the bottom.

"Would you like to come with us, little sister?" asked Diana.

"Where are we going?" asked Alexa.

"To search for Aresia," the Princess said. "We want to make sure that everything is alright."

"Sure," said Alexa. "But when are we leaving? Even if we dried ourselves and went home to pack provisions directly, it would be dusk before we could leave the village."

"Night might be our only option," said Artemis. "I would prefer not to wait."

"What about you, lady?" asked Alexa, casting back to Persephone, who was washing her hair not far off from the other three. She had grown rather voluptuous in her adulthood, her body curvaceous with her lack of regular excursion, yet still quite comely.

"If I must," she said, a bit haughtily, though a smile quirked her lips.

"Let us not twist your arm," said Alexa, a barely noticeable edge to her voice.

Persephone rung her hair and whipped it out, separating it out with deft finger motions.

"She really is closest to you, princess," said Persephone, the only one of Diana's friends who could call her by her title ironically, enough so that Diana didn't mind being called such out of The Queen's presence.

"We will help," she went on, "but have no illusions; it is for your sake and not hers. If she were in danger, we would for her, but there isn't any evidence of that, either."

Diana nodded, smiling at her friends, "I understand, and you have my thanks. Shall we go now?"

"I am clean," said Persephone.

"I am finished," said Alexa.

Artemis just looked at Diana with an expression of disbelief, as though her state of readiness was ever in doubt.

"Alright," said Diana, walking out of the water, using her tunic to dry without bother to put the dry cloth back on. "Let's gather supplies for ourselves and meet at the northern edge of the village as soon as we are ready."

They all left the spring and headed to their dwellings, gather packs and necessities.

Artemis was naturally the first to arrive, followed by Diana, Alexa, then Persephone.

The two warriors had swords at their hips, and Artemis carried her traditional spear. Alexa had slung a bow and quiver, her most proficient weapon, while Persephone had a long dagger she tucked into her belt. Artemis carried only minimal food and implements of first aid, all that she would carry if they were heading to battle. All the others carried bedrolls and food, Diana extra provisions since the weight wouldn't slow her down, Alexa rope and parchment, and Persephone carried wine as well as herbs and poti made from her garden. Artemis and Alexa carried torches, two lit and others as spares. They began to move out, Artemis in the lead and Diana bringing up the rear, when Persephone spoke.

"Where are we going?" she asked.

Alexa rolled her eyes, "We're going to look for Aresia."

"I know that," she said, "but where? It's not exactly a small island."

Artemis came up short and turned back, which was enough to tell Diana that she thought that a plan was in order.

"I have no experience with tracking," she said. "Any ideas, Artemis?"

"She was last seen leaving this way," Artemis said. "There is no indication that she would be trying to hide her passage. I say we take obvious paths and keep our eyes open for signs of her."

"And such signs are?" asked Persephone.

"No idea," said Artemis plainly.

"I know!" burst out Alexa, and she withered at Artemis' sharp gaze at the sudden noise.

"Pray to our Goddess," said Alexa, focusing on Diana. "She aids you in battle. Would She not aid you in this?"

Diana thought about it, "I have never asked."

"Your senses are far beyond anyone on Themyscira," said Artemis.

"Exactly," said Alexa. "Surely with Her aid, Diana could find anyone on Her island."

Diana, bowing her head, placing a palm upon her heart, praying, "By Hera-"

Before she could complete her words, it was as though she had been jerked by her hair. She could smell Aresia, hear her, catch a flickering glow though many dwelling and the mass of a hill lay between them.

"She is there," pointed Diana. "I think... I think she is heading towards The Temple!"

They ran with great speed, making greater haste through the village and making it in sight of The Temple in moments. A shadowy figure was slinking near, moving across the open thoroughfare with all the silence and notice of a shadow at night.

"There," Diana called, and as she did, it was though some spell was broken and Aresia was laid bare for them all to see.

She was not Aresia as they had known her. She stood with a poise and a ferocity they usually equated with the greatest Amazons. Her eyes were bright yet empty somehow, looked at them with disdainful superiority and mild irritation. With no more care for them than an ox shows a fly, she turned and bolted, moving as fast as they, straight into The Temple, straight for the tree at its heart.

"Get her!" cried Artemis, and Alexa stood at the edge of The Temple, unslinging her bow and notching an arrow. With a mighty pull, she aimed and let fly.

Aresia turned in flight, catching the arrow on her blade and raising her hand, as though a claw rising to encompass the moon. As her hand rose, the earth broke apart, and several skeletal warriors pulled themselves from the soil.

They were armored and wielded ancient weapons that were no less deadly for their notched and rusted state. Gaping eyes and maws met them as suddenly, the Amazons met the long dead.

Alexa and Persephone kept back, picking off the easy ones with wary skill, unsure at first what would fall them. As they soon found that none of their actions did but slow them down, they fell further back, attempting chance strikes that would allow Diana and Artemis to press an advantage.

As it turned out, they needed little help. Both called upon the Goddess and laid low such foul creatures with Hera's own Temple. Their foes might as well have been built of sticks and wet clay. They were in pieces in mere moments, and those pieces pulverized moments later. As inconvenient the fight was, it was over quickly.

"Where did she go?" asked Artemis, cursing and kicked one of the felled creatures skulls to pieces. What was left of it skipped its way out of The Temple, crumbling to powder that blew in the wind.

"There," pointed Alexa, and to their surprise, the tree at The Heart of The Temple had been changed, yet was still somehow the same.

"What is that?" asked Persephone, looking discomfited.

Diana looked closely. The tree was as it had always been, but it seemed large now, stronger, with deep and wide roots, large enough for a hollow between two roots, wide enough for a body to pass. Somehow, looking upon this unusual sight, Diana understood that the pomegranate tree was no different than it had ever been; they were simply seeing it for what it truly was, as though the veil was lifted.

"Praise Hera," they whispered, one after the other.

"Let's go," said Diana, and after lighting or relighting their torches so that each had one to bare, they pulled foot.

The hollow widened and opened into a cave of considerable and almost unbelievable size upon entering, a tunnel so broad, they could walk abreast with ease. Save for the slightly irregular walls, it continued almost preternaturally straight ahead, with a steady downward slope that could only be considered contrived with its steadiness. It pulled slightly to the right, into a wide and perfect curve downwards, a spiral into the depths. The darkness outside of their torchlight was total, and even Diana could see no evidence of Aresia ahead, save for the occasional sandal print in the soft earth.

"Can you hear her?" asked Artemis, seeming impatient at that they weren't running.

"I hear distant footfalls," said Diana, "but I can't tell if they are really her or just faint echoes of our own footsteps."

Alexa was about to add that this stone was unusual, unlike any stone she had ever studied, but before she could open her mouth to speak, the tunnel opened abruptly into a wide cavern. As they stepped through, the sound and light emanating from the cavern changed too, as though no light nor sound passed between the two.

The cavern was more of a chamber, an audience chamber by design, with columns and ensconced torches, save for the spot in which a throne was usually placed, there was a massive stone door, angled downward, writ with ancient words and runes of a long forgotten language. In the place of the received before the doors knelt two figures. The smaller of the two was undoubtedly Aresia, while the other was something else entirely.

He was massive, so broad of shoulder that Diana was sure she could not reach entirely around Him, even if He had slackened and attempted to aid her. Each of His thighs was as big around as Diana herself, and His body was corded with perfectly toned muscle, without a single ounce of superfluous flesh. He was replete with scars, yet not a one seemed to detract from His undeniable beauty and grace, even in stillness, ladened as He was with the largest, most numerous, and oldest chains any of them had ever seen, pinning him to the surrounding rock, each carved with symbols and inlaid with precious metals that Diana could not identify. Other than the chains, He bore not a stitch upon his muscled mass.

"I have brought her," Aresia was saying so that only He and Diana could hear her.

"I can see that," He said, and Diana was in awe. His voice was unnatural, deep, speaking of the grinding foundations of the Earth, yet lovely, penetrating, cold and confident and dangerous.

"Come, children," He said. "Step into the light."

They all glanced at one another from behind the rearmost columns, where they had placed themselves protectively upon entering the chamber. Diana had only to meet Artemis' eyes to know that she had no fear. The two stepped out, with Alexa and Persephone quickly following, still staying well back.

They could not see His face, as He was directed towards the stone door and seemed unable to move, and while all they could see of Him was lustrous blonde, shoulder length hair, He seemed disconcertingly aware of every move they made.

"Two warriors," He said, sounding approving, "and two home keepers. I could have worked with less."

Diana and Artemis instinctively stepped between Him and their two friends.

"What is this?" demanded Artemis. "What goes on here?"

"This is the Overworld Sanctum," He said, "and you came here to die, or to wish you were dead."

Diana stood straighter, her eyes sharp as a new sword, "Who are you?"

He smiled. Diana didn't know how she knew, but she knew.

"I am why you are here," He rumbled in His voice that seemed to shake their very bones. "I am your catalyst, your progenitor in all but deed. I am the reason you came to all the places you have ever been, Princess. Auspiciously, you are also the reason that I am here. Thusly, since you are the key to my imprisonment, you are to be the key to my release."

He let loose a high, ear-piercing whistle, so fierce that dust began to jump all about Him, kicked up in a pattern of peaks and valleys in a circle around Him. Aresia fell away, along with all but Diana. Even Artemis was forced to nearly cower, the sound too much for them all. Once He had stopped, the ringing that followed was nearly as loud, drifting away so subtly that none could be sure exactly when it dissipated. There was a moment of near deafening silence, then, as with the sound before it, a rumble began to permeate through the chamber, almost as though it had been there the whole time, just too low for any to sense. The rumble was soon punctuated by a methodical pounding, quiet and distant at first, but ever increasing in volume and violence.

"What is it?" asked Alexa. "What's happening?"

The sound was met by His piercing and demoralizing laughter, "Come, Mighty Cerberus! Come!"

The doors were hit by a force that seemed so powerful, it was a wonder they remained intact. The chamber still shaking from the might of such and blow, what had caused it leaped out. It stood so tall that Diana would bare need to stoop to pass below it's belly. One of it's paws could have covered a torso, easily crushing it underfoot. It's dark fur was not quite black, seemingly matted with dried blood so old, it was a deep, midnight burgundy, so long that it curled like writhing snakes. Its tail was thick and serpentine, as black as a starless sky, and held high and nearly unmoving with taught muscle. Each of its three headed was canine in appearance, but such a word felt wholly and holy inadequate when put to the creature at hand. It's lifeless black eyes were at odds with the flames that seem to dance within them, shining in kind with the slaver that dripped in stringy ropes from the fangs longer than a hand, whipped into the air with the thrum of its unearthly growl. The middle head was topped with a single patch of off-white that looked sickly upon it, as though touched by death, yellowed, and soon to rot. Each of those monstrous heads gave an almighty boom of sound in turn, too vast and frightful to be called a bark, and then, it sprang.

Before Alexa could scream, Diana and Artemis sprung into action. The chamber, littered with weapons similar to those wielded by the enemies that had risen at Hera's Temple, gave a substantial armament to both Amazons. Artemis, completely unfazed by the beast within their midst, took up a second spear, hefting it hard yet true from her offhand at the beast's leftmost head, causing it to jerk, throwing off the aim of the middle head as it went for Persephone and missed. Diana rolled and gathered to her a shield, which she used to block the last head as it bit at Alexa, too stunned to go for cover without Diana pushing her towards it. Once the non fighters were out of the way, Diana and Artemis began fighting in earnest.

Their initial strategy only worked for a time, Artemis using her carried spear to keep Diana from being overwhelmed while she used the shield to keep from being bitten, as well as a bludgeon when it suited her. The beast seemed to grow tired of the stalemate quickly and the right head came forth and bit entirely around the shield, denting it beyond use and drawing it away from Diana. Artemis' spear was similarly destroyed, and, with a look that conveyed more than most strategy sessions, they split, each circling around the beast, forcing it to choose one and only one to follow, which, it couldn't, being of more than one mind. Finally, after some snapping the get the third in line, the body followed what two heads had done from the first, and the creature went for Diana.

Artemis was not expecting to have nearly the fight Diana was, but as she rolled to take up a blade that she might hamper the beast's back legs, she found that the tail lashed with as much awareness as the three heads, whipping through the air and slamming the ground where she had just stood with a surprising amount of force for something that moves so blurringly fast. She fell back just out of range, hurling spears and small blades with all the might and accuracy her years of intense training had brought.

Diana was not so lucky. As she took up a cudgel large enough that she would be forced to use two hands, the beast lunged. She had believed she knew the range of those bites, but as the right most head came forward, it's neck seemed to elongate noticeably, allowing it to close around Diana's right arm without needing to move its body forward. And close it did. The far side of the beast's teeth dented her bracer on her right wrist, barely piercing through it in places, bruising her to the bone. The nearer side tore completely though the muscle of Diana's biceps and triceps, scraping bone as it punctured all the way through. With a guttural cry, Diana endured the worst pain and injure she had ever received, just before the beast pulled her off her feet and shook her, her pain redoubled.

"Diana!" cried Artemis, but before she could run to her friend's aid, she was struck, hard. She sailed nearly to the wall behind her before skidding to a stop on her side, winded, battered, and dazed. She looked up, trying to find what struck her, finding only a traitor.

"Stay down, Artemis," said Aresia. "This is your only warning."

"Traitor," coughed Artemis. "Had you ever truly been our sister, you would not have bothered asking!"

Artemis stood, taking up a hefty spear and a broad shield. Stepping into a fortifying stance, she bellowed the Amazon's challenged. Aresia's face twitched with suppressed anger.

"You think to best me?" she taunted. "I who struck Diana's first true blow! I who have fought my way up out of the filth to become the glory that stands before you! You are not the only one with the might of God's at you back."

She struck her own stance, ready, but looking decidedly lazy when compared to the pose of Artemis. Bowing her head, in equal show of her disregard for her enemy and reverence to her faith, she prayed.

"By Your will, Lord Ares," she said.

And He smiled, "Be it done."

Vigor flowed into Aresia. She stood tall, proud, and ready. For the first time in combat, Artemis blinked.

Diana, gritting her teeth and eyes, she held fast and called, "Hera, hear my plea!"

And with that, she found the power she needed.

She clenched her arm and felt the bracer pop back into something close to its original shape. She leveraged herself up by her held arm, planting her feet and free hand against the side of the beast's face. Then, with an almighty heave, she tore herself free, taking teeth with her. She flipped over backwards and sideways to land upon her feet, the torn fangs clattering about her. She looked at her arm, seeing that it was no longer flowing blood. Ripping a section from the bottom of her tunic, she pulled the cloth tight with her teeth and her free hand, pulling the wound closed and holding it fast. Cracking her neck, she looked at the beast, took a deep breath, and finished it.

She slid forward on one knee, ducking under the snap of one head, to come up under another, striking a blow that sent said head reeling. The other two heads then slammed themselves down upon her kneeling form like massive sledges in quick succession, to which she raised an arm to block each in turn, her injured arm holding as true as her uninjured. She countered each blow with one of her own to each of the front paws of the massive beast. Upon the landing of the last, the hellish house-sized hound crashed down upon its breastbone, its weight enough to cause injure all upon its own. Diana, unimpressed, reached to grip the fiend by its massive shoulder. Gripping and gritting her teeth, giving one more call to The Goddess, she bodily flung the beast fair across the chamber to land with a harrowing boom that shook the very ground upon which they stoop. Catching her breath, she turned to find that the other battle was nearly finished.

Shield and spear broken and discarded, Artemis was barely breathing as she was held by Aresia, her arm extended, her hand almost lazily about the folds of Artemis' tunic. All that could be heard was the low, penetrating, booming laughter of Him and the creaking of chains.

"Enough, Aresia," said Diana. "It is over."

"Over!?" shot back Aresia. "It is only just beginning!"

She tossed Artemis aside like the rind of a finished fruit. She fell poorly, scuffing to a halt and still only a moment before her friends were at her side to tend to her.

"Why are you doing this Aresia?" Alexa asked, her face twisted in painful heartache.

"Why?" asked Aresia before her voice filled the chamber, "WHY?!"

The sound of her tendons creaking from her clenched fist was audible to all.

"You all are children," she said bitterly. "You live in a dream world from which we will all awaken, sooner or later. Oh, how I wished that I could lie with you all, believing in a life without pain or heartbreak, but I know better. I have lived it! I have experienced the pains first hand that you can only speak of in hushed tones, of lives that were only lived by those who came before you, before the world became not only barbaric but also heartless and cruel. You know not of the pains that I have endured, the betrayal of all human decency. You know not of the torments of being taken by force, even as a child, again and again, of being as regarded as a cloth to smear blood from a blade and forsaken. You know not of being of so little consideration as to not warrant the effort of a thrust and left to suffer a lingering death. You understand nothing of what it is like to know that this day might be your last and that there is nothing in your power to prevent your sudden and horrible death."

She stood from her bowed slouch of memory and pain, and cast a pointing finger at Him.

"But, now, I have what I need," she proclaimed. "I will never again be defiled by likes of man-kind!"

There was a rustle, and one of the larger chains fell from His arm. He shifted, taking a deeper breath.

"We needn't fight, Sister," said Diana. "Nothing that has been done here cannot be undone. You are in pain. Not a one of us can deny that. But pain can be healed. You say I know nothing of the hurts you have swallowed, and you are quite correct. But I would like to."

The bark of laughter that came from her lips was mirrored by His, louder and deeper yet not overwhelming her voice.

"Surely you jest!" Aresia mocked. "What could you possible care for such torments?"

Diana shook her head, beginning to walk slowly forward, her posture that of calm and disarmament.

"I care not for the acts themselves," she said, "only that it was you whom they were cast upon. I care for you, Sister, as though we were one flesh. I may not know the burdens of which you toil, but I would gladly share them with you. You have but to ask and I would-"

The blow was savage and fierce. The moment she closed with Aresia, her fist whipped into Diana's jaw. Aresia was thrown downward into the floor with the force of the blow, her whole body arching with the strike as her feet skidded against the stone. Diana was lifted high, crashing back down to the floor only after her knees and feet had brushed the chamber's ceiling at the zenith of her arc. Stunned and seeing stars, Diana stumbled and rolled to her feet upon landing, shaking off the blow she had not been ready for.

"I am sorry, Sister," she said at Aresia's superior look.

"Sorry?" said Aresia, "for what do you have to be sorry for?"

"That we weren't enough for you," said Diana evenly.

"What is this?" Aresia asked, momentarily disarmed.

"I understand you better than you think," Diana said. "You were truly victimized by what was foisted upon you, but you, alas, took the mantle of victim onto yourself. No pain has yet been devised that cannot be undone with faith, trust, and love. We could only provide the latter; you are entirely lacking in the two former."

"You are wrong," Aresia smiled, colder than the earth upon which they stood. "I have faith."

She pointed again.

"In Him," she said.

Diana shook her head, "That is not faith. You are afraid, believing that your only choices are to be dependent on another or to be at the mercy of all that you fear. There are more than two options here. You have a choice. The hardest and right decisions often come with frightening risk. You can return to us."

"Never," said Aresia. "I will have what I need to never be dependent on anyone again. Not even the likes of you."

She stood ready for combat. Diana smiled sadly, tears in her eyes.

"I am sorry," she said.

Aresia laughed again, "You keep saying that!"

"This time," Diana said, "I sorrow after you. I have already won."

This time, the laugh was bitter and slightly manic.

"How?!" said Aresia, her voice uncomfortably high.

"You're lost," Diana said. "You are lost and you will lose. You have done what you did out of fear. I will do what must be done because it is right, even onto killing you, Dear Sister, if I must."

Aresia's eyes were somewhat mad, "You say you love me and yet would kill me. Have you no compassion?"

Diana's tears fell, but her face was calm, "What I do, I do out of love, Sister. You can always turn back, whenever you wish, but I will stop you, no matter what."

Diana ran, her fist raised, and Aresia came to meet her, both ready for death, when the world exploded.

There was a momentary flash of blinding light and a pressure-wave where the two would have met. It threw them both back and off their feet. They clattered to the ground, all sound lost in the clattering of loosed chains.

"My thanks, little Diana," He said with a smile, standing straight, nearly half again as tall as Diana and easily twice as broad. "You truly are your mother's daughter, suffering from the same folly she did. No matter what excuses you make or how you try to pretty up your actions, one thing remains true."

He looked her in the eyes for the first time, His irises' red and shining as fresh spilt blood.

"War is War," He said.


	6. Chapter 6: Bound and Unbound

Diana stood as if frozen, feeling for the first time something akin to mortal dread. She watched as Ares turned at walked to Aresia, where she had landed beside the chains that no longer bound him.

"My Lord," she said, bowing before Him. "I have done as you asked."

He jeered at her with His expression, though not His voice.

"You were nothing but a pawn," He intoned lazily. "Though I am not without honor. I will keep to my word."

Picking one of the smaller chains up with only thumb and middle finger, He draped it about Aresia's bowed shoulders. Small though it seemed, she was pulled to sitting on her shins, her feet tucked under her, her shoulders bowed under the disproportionate weight.

"My Lord?" asked Aresia, hurt and confusion in her eyes. Try as she might, she could no more shift the chain then she could the Earth beneath her feet nor the moon in the sky.

"There you are," Ares rumbled at her, "and there you will stay. I am a Deity of my word. As long as you remain where I have set you, never again shall you be molested by the likes of man."

"Free her!" Diana called, fearlessly.

Ares turned, looking upon her with barely contain wrath.

"I am indebted to you for your releasing me from my bonds," He said, His face rigid with contempt. "I am in so fine a mood I am tempted to spare your lives until next we meet, be it by me or my devotes. Don't tempt me further."

"I fear you not!" Diana said, her passion roused as seeing Aresia reliving being used and cast aside yet again. She was numb in expression, not even attempting to fight her immovable bonds.

Ares leered at her, His teeth more a grimace than a smile, "I do not care."

Diana ran at Him, hoping to land a blow upon Him, but the moment she felt her skin begin to touch Him, He was gone and a blow landed upon the side of her that sent her spinning about her sagittal axis to smash headlong into the ground. Dulled though her pain was by the power running though her, it did little to cover the cracking of the bones of her face.

"Pathetic," said Ares. "You couldn't even land a single bl-"

She whipped up as though to kick His foot, which He pulled back, bringing Himself down right on her other foot, coming up to meet Him. She struck Him squarely between the legs, and the look of rage upon His face was enough to fill even the likes of Gods with mortal dread.

"YOU DARE!" He thundered, His very voice a painful assault even before His attack landed, kicking up dirt and falling stones from the ceiling above. He grabbed up Diana, holding her by her head, bringing up His closed fist just as she had struck Him, though her bellow of pain was not enough to cover the cracking of bone. He struck her in the gut hard enough that she spewed blood, the blows stringing her out nearly horizontally back from her head. Finally, He dropped her, beating her face, two, three, four times, finally headbutting her with a sound that squelched more than crackled. She staggered back, slick with blood and slavor, misshapen and retching to but breathe. Pulling her to her feet, He struck her one last blow, so violent that she had not the time to arc in the air, smashing directly against the wall at the far end of the chamber, embedding herself into the wall with such force that she stayed, held fast.

Ares brushed the dust from His shoulder and licked the blood from His knuckles, considering.

"As entertaining as this has been," He said, "I have elsewhere I would rather be, so I will simply add the insult of crushing your surviving friends and then be off. Should you survive, I will be waiting."

He turned to Alexa, who was still exposed, trying desperately to drag Artemis behind cover. Persephone stood and walked forward with a dagger, determined to hold Him off so that her friends might escape. He laughed and batted her aside, not bothering to kill her just yet. He was enjoying himself too much for that. He reached out for the little Alexa and-

"ARES!" thundered a voice. He looked up, confused for the first time.

Diana had pulled herself from the wall, still on her hands and knees. She drew herself up, and as she did, she seemed to radiate light from within. It was as though the core of her was heated through, gold-hot and pulsing with a steady beat of a thrumming heart. Her all injures seemed to pull themselves right, closed and diminished in a moment, yet whole she was not. Her face was cragged about the eyes, as though molten power was running beneath the flesh of her face as magma sunders the stone above it. Tendrils of light rose like a heat haze from her closed fists and mighty shoulders, her breast heaving drawn breaths, surging steam-like from her as he glowing white eyes found her foe.

"You will not touch them," she said, and her voice rolled and resonated deeply, akin to His.

Ares stared a moment longer at her, against tasting the blood that was upon his knuckles. With a look of furious disbelief, he smiled viciously, and all but vanished.

"NO!" Diana concussed, falling to her knees right where he had stood, crossing the distance an instance too late. She sat bowed, much as Aresia did not far from her. The power in her becoming brighter still, more chaotic.

"Diana," Alexa called coming closer.

"Touch her not," came a voice from nowhere and everywhere. "Lest you never again leave this place."

He stood practically amongst them. There was something almost intrusive about His appearance, as though He had been there the entire time and they never knew it. He stood within a breath of Ares' height, His hair as black as soot, His eyes as dark as a starless night, His skin pale as a full moon, as bleached bone on white sand. His beauty was as stark and undeniable as was His pronounced cheekbones and pointed chin and high forehead, all affecting the likeness of a skull. His robes were silken blackness, like onyx made liquid, and the only adornment He bore, the only impractical, was a circlet of high pointed obsidian, thirteen thin spires in total.

He passed to the beast that lay upon the floor, only then drawing them to the fact that the massive stone doors were open, though not a one could remember any evidence of their unfastening. He checked upon the huge hound, no more than a cursory visual inspection and an almost reverent placement of a palm upon the fur. The beast seemed to rouse a bit in its slumber, but other than righting a few awkward placements of its limbs, it did not rise.

"You have loosed my brother and injured my guardian," He said. "Had you done so in my domain, I would have been inclined to never again let you leave, but since you have not, I will let you take your injured sister and depart, not to darken my door again."

Alexa stood, having no idea how should would be able to move Diana when she wasn't glowing a pulsing with heatwaves and light.

"Not that one!" He exploded, shaking the room at large as Alexa took a single step towards Diana. "She is not long for this world. She will be mine soon enough. There is naught that you can do for her."

Alexa started back and forth, "Could-"

His eyes fell full upon her, and she found herself cowering against the nearest stable surface.

"She is... our sister," said Artemis, propping herself into a seated position with a sword, tip in the earth. "We won't... leave her..."

"That is not within your power to do," He intoned. "Now, leave this place."

Artemis pushed herself to her feet, still unsteady.

"You can help her," she said, looking at Him with more than a little contempt.

He seemed to sigh, "Whether I can or not matters little. I will not."

"You will," cried Artemis. He simply stared at her. She raised the blade and He did not move. She ran and He only watched. She plunged the blade through His chest, having to leap painfully to do so, and still, He didn't even blink.

"Are you quite finished?" He asked, looking completely indifferent.

"My Lord."

All three of them paused and turned. Persephone stepped forward, her hands raised palm upwards. Her robes hung from her, but from the tilt of her hips, her shoulders back, the way she held her weight, all but the details of her body were displayed unabashedly.

"My Lord," she said again, her voice soft, passive, yet firm. "Surely, there is something that you might want for my friend's survival."

He looked at her, a speculative look about Him. Then, He spoke.

"Would you go into my realm with me?" He asked.

"I would," she said. "If it would save my friend's life."

He considered, then looked to the entrenched Aresia, "And her?"

Persephone shook her head, "She is not my friend."

He considered again, "You understand that once you have entered my realm, you may never return?"

She looked unsure, then said, "Would you enjoy my mother coming to seek you out for stealing her daughter away?"

He looked almost comically perturbed, "Surely not."

She smiled humorlessly, "Then perhaps I might be allowed visits to her. Never will I stay longer than agreed upon and always will I return to you."

She bowed, submissively, an almost coy look upon her face. He nodded, and with a sudden flare, the knife hidden in her sleeve burst into flame. She quickly tossed it to the ground, followed by the smoking belt she had slung about her waist. The blade fell to the dirt and by the flame licking up the blade, all could see the plant extracts that edge had been run through, melting and boiling off in the heat. Persephone looked disappointed, but He did not.

"Your treachery is not unwelcome," He said with the barest hint of a smile, "just pointless. I am not so easily dispatched, nor will I ever be. I am The End, and ever will I be, in some form. Come with me, and you will be just as timeless, just as steady and constant, and unending and undying with be my care and well-treatment of you."

He held out a hand, and carefully, she walked across the space between them. Before her hand touched His, she stopped.

"My friend," she pointed out. They turned, and Diana was beginning to jerk and twitch, though the motion seemed not inspired by muscle or bone, but by something else inside her, fighting to tear itself free.

He nodded, "I will do what I can."

Diana awoke slowly, by the lengths of breaths, pulling herself out of her slumber. She felt cool wind against her skin, nearly completely unencumbered save for the thin linen sheet that lay atop her. The breeze was a novelty, since most homes were out of the way of such winds, which could only mean that she was high, in the tower of The Temple of Hera. She went to move the sheet so that she may stand, when she found the only other adornment upon her.

They were akin to the bracers she wore as a warrior, save for the fact that they were the most precious implement she had ever bore witness to. They fit her perfectly, allowing her full range of motion, yet were snug against her. She could see no way to remove them, and yet so comfortable were they that she felt no need to, ever. They shone like silver or platinum, edged in something like gold that seemed more resilient and yet more precious still. They were set with filigree line-work, so fine as to be almost unseen. It spoke of vines, of veins, of forked lightning, of the muscles that lay beneath them. They were beautiful and warm and somehow as alive as she was.

She walked to the water basin that was set beside the high, open window, letting in the wind that smelled vaguely of the sea. She looking into the basin, reflecting the light of the moon, and was stunned at her appearance.

Her face was a mass of scar-tissue about the eyes, still red and raw. Her deep blue eyes were red and rimmed in dried blood. As she examined the rest of her body, she found that she was covered in healing injuries of every kind she knew. She took water into hers, but it came up quickly, pinked with blood.

"Easy," came Hippolyta's voice. "Easy, daughter. You are unwell, and have no experience for unease."

She held her daughter as she coughed up a little more water, not reddish, and brought her back to the bed. She took up a cup and pitcher that were at the bedside and poured her a small draft.

"Drink slowly, child," she said, brushing her daughter's hair and holding the cup for her. Diana sipped and didn't cough the second time. Hippolyta put the cup back and continued fussing with her daughter's hair, an old habit she had not done in some years, and Diana found in comforting.

"My friends?" she asked.

Hippolyta did not cease her gentling, "What do you remember?"

Diana thought hard and realized that she could recall far more than she considered.

"I remember burning," she said, "burning like the Sun, like the heat of all creation. I remember being carried by one whom my flame was naught but a cool kiss. He left me in The Temple and the Oracle was there. She did something and the fires cooled in me. She called up warriors and went back the way He had come, who returned with Alexa and Artemis. What of Persephone?"

Hippolyta sighed, "She will not be returning so readily. As Alexa says, she will visit, but she will never call this place home again. She is Hades' now."

Diana let her eyes flutter shut, the weight settling upon her shoulders and tears beginning to fall. Hippolyta gripped her hand carefully, not wishing to pressure her lingering injuries more than necessary.

"She's gone," Diana said. "Never have I had to be more than patient if I wanted my friends company, and less patient than most. I have never had to measure time in more than a day before. What strange new world have I woken to?"

Hippolyta smiled a bit sadly, tenderly.

"I know well what you mean, daughter," she said. "You know, there are times when I wonder if being a mother was what I was meant to be."

Diana's eyes opened, "In what way?"

Hippolyta's lips quirked, "If glimpsed only by a brief space in time, it would be hard to justify the worry I endure, the fear."

Diana couldn't help but scoff, "Fear? You, mother?"

Hippolyta smiled fondly, "I am not nearly as fearless as I appear. True bravery comes from acting despite fear. Our most common flaw is that we often act because of it."

She looked down at her daughter, looking sad.

"I love you, my little princess," she said wondrously. "Though I can hardly call you little anymore. I did everything in my power to keep you safe, to provide you, all of us but you most of all, a place of peace where you may come to no harm. Never did I think that you would come to this here..."

She looked down at the many dramas that ladened Diana.

"Never did I think that you would seek out such a circumstance that would bring you to this," she said. "And never did I think that I could, that I would be proud of you for doing so."

Diana felt her throat catch, her tears continuing to fall for an entirely different reason.

"You are my love, Diana," said her mother. "I wanted only the best for you. But, in doing so, I never considered what was truly best for you, nor did I consider what you might want. A time will come, of which I am certain, that you will leave Themyscira."

Diana caught back a laugh, "Leave? How could I?"

Hippolyta did laugh, "By being yourself, daughter. The Gods only know how you do what you do, your abilities as well as you nose for finding that which seems impossible, but you do it. You were born to it. I will not deny you. In fact, I know what I must do, as your mother."

Diana looked unsure, "What, mother?"

Hippolyta sat straighter, her face peaceful, "When you leave Paradise Island, you can never again claim it as your home."

It was Diana's turn to sit straighter, painful though it was, and just simply physically pain.

"You want me never to return?" she asked, almost scared.

"Of course not," said Hippolyta. "You will always be welcome here, but this is not the place for you, my child. You are meant for so much more than this, more than what pleasures and comforts this island can bring you. I finally see that now. This was but your recess, your hearth, where you grew and were forged true. But a sword left sheathed is no sword at all."

Diana nodded, understanding but still daunted.

"Fear not, my child," said Hippolyta. "You will not be leaving tomorrow. You will be leaving when you are ready, by the Gods."

They both bowed their heads, "Hera be praised."

"And," she said, "you will not be going unarmed."

From beside the bed, Hippolyta lifted a bundle of cloth. Laying it upon Diana's lap, she drew the cloth away, revealing what was below it.

The shield was a beautiful patinated bronze, all it's recesses filled with an aged brown that gave the soaring bird emblazoned on the disk a comely contrast. It was outlined in runes that even Diana hadn't the knowledge to read, but they seemed to speak of resolution and inexorability. Next came a belt made of the same stuff and style as her bracers, unadorned and would have no sign of clasp once cinched, from which two small clasps hung. The first clasp was filled with a gold cord, thin and fine and seemed to glow gently in Diana's presence. The second clasp was on the left hip, no doubt to the sword that nestled against its counterpart, the grip and cross guard formed in the same likeness, that of a flying bird.

"These are for you," said Hippolyta, "gifts from the Gods, no doubt, to be given to you when needed. Now, you need them. They will help you along the way to whatever journeys you seek."

Hippolyta took up one last gift, one that was set behind the shield. It was a golden tiara, set with a single star-shaped ruby. She kissed her daughter's forehead and placed the gold over the kiss.

"When the time comes," Hippolyta said, her voice almost hiding the vast well of emotion within it, "you will leave with a light heart, and takes these with you, along with my love."

Diana hugged her mother over her gifts. The two women held one another for a long moment, tears from both falling to the other's hair. They let go after a final squeeze, feeling secure and knowing full well that their love for the other was sound. Diana smiled, lying back, just long enough for her mother to leave. Sluing the linen from her bed about herself, she took up her gifts, retying the cloth and carried them carefully with her as she walked the long, long way to her destination.

Artemis was in her home, which could only be graciously called such as it was little more than a space to cook and eat food and sleep. An awning had been added to allow for more space, since she would need to house more than herself as the healers came and went in her treatment. Naturally, Alexa was there, roused the moment Diana came into proximity. She set her parcel down and carefully took her tiny companion into her arms. Alexa helped her into the hut to where Artemis was no longer asleep. Diana kissed each in turn before lying behind Artemis, Alexa on her other side. She cast arms about each, holding them and so grateful that they were not killed. She held them the whole night, awaking to each with a head upon her breast. Her wounds were much the same, for that night, she allowed her strength to them, and they awoke whole and unfettered.

Over the next several weeks, Diana healed. What had once been burns, breaks, abrasions, blisters, lacerations, strains, and sprains because scars and lagging limbs became shadows and wrinkles became nothing. It was faster than anyone else had healed, even on the island, but it was still slow for Diana. She was in pain the entire time and was not entirely comfortable with her hurts and immobility, though she complained about it none. She spent the time relaxing, chatting with her friends and eating the food brought to her by all those who wished her a speedy recovery, or, perhaps, simply wanted to curry her favor.

Artemis was once again fighting and doing so with a gusto that she had yet untapped. She brought everything she had learned from fighting Aresia to the other warriors, asking for thoughts and advice from all and practicing as best she could to learn how to counter and react to such an onslaught in the future.

Alexa, for her part, began to take up the sword and learn the proper ways of a warrior. She took to it about as well as Artemis could read in a second language, but she tried often and was undaunted by her many shortcomings in terms of talent and skill, determined to be of service should her friends be so threatened again.

It was on a quiet evening just before dusk, on the day that Diana finally called herself completely healed, that they decided to go for a swim. They chose the springs since the heat of the unseasonable warm day was still upon them and those pools were always pleasantly cool. They stripped down and Diana took the opportunity to look over her immaculate skin and sighed.

"Nothing," she commented. "Not a single lasting mark."

Alexa's delicate snort was quiet, "You say that like it is a bad thing!"

Diana turned to Artemis, stretching in the indigo light of fading twilight, highlighted be the still waxing nearly full moon. Her scars stood out as starkly as she was naked.

"Look at her," Diana said. "Each one a badge of valor, a story onto itself, hard fought and showing her the victor. How could I not be jealous?"

Artemis gave her an almost superior, meaningful smile, and Alexa went a little pink. Before she could react, Diana grabbed a wrist and an ankle and spun Alexa out into the cool water, crashing with a squeak that was cut short. She came up laughing and Diana dove in after her at nearly the same time Artemis left the shore. After some slow circles and some playful splashing, they came up to float on their backs, watching the stars come out. Once they had settled, Alexa was the first to speak.

"It feels different without her here. Quieter," she said. It was true and they all knew it.

"She would probably be making some slightly sarcastic comment about how she may not swim as well as us, but we don't flow as well as her," said Diana.

"It's the muscle mass," said Artemis.

"I don't have muscle mass," complained Alexa.

Diana poked her and she floundered a moment.

"You're getting some," she commented. "It looks good on you."

Alexa beamed, but soon the mood was melancholy again.

"She's not here anymore," said Alexa. "That just seems... so..."

"Unexpected," said Artemis.

"Yeah," said Alexa. "Who thought that anyone would ever leave Themyscira?"

Diana turned to face them.

"I must confess something," she said quietly. Immediately, the other two righted themselves as well.

Diana drew a deep breath, letting it out slowly.

"I will be leaving," she said.

Her two companions looked at one another.

"Naturally," said Alexa, and Artemis nodded.

"What?" Diana asked, just as Alexa began asking, "When?"

"A moment," said Diana, holding up a hand and trying to understand their reactions. "This seems an ordinary and understandable thing to you?"

"Of course," said Alexa. "We didn't just go down into the bowels of the earth because we felt like it; we went because you lead us there. You are not one to simply stay hidden away here. Why would you?"

Artemis nodded, "You're place is not here, with peace and complacency. It is beyond, the further, where you can be yourself, powerful and free to impart justice and fight the fights that need fighting."

Diana shook her head, "How is it that you always see me so much clearer than I see myself?"

Alexa hugged her sideways, "It is much easier to see that which you look upon if you are not standing in the exact same place."

Artemis nodded, "A little distance can mean all the difference."

Diana looked to each in turn, "Would...?"

She couldn't finish. Almost to her relief, Artemis splashed her.

"By the Gods, no!" she crowed. "My place is here. Besides, with you gone, the rightful best Amazon can take her place."

"But what will you do, Artemis?" asked Alexa.

All three looked shocked, Alexa most of all. With a grin, Artemis prepared her lunge and Alexa half squealed in fright, half screamed in apology before she was beset and roundly dunked before being saved from defensively drowning herself by Artemis. Diana smiled, her heart breaking that she might leave these dear ones behind.

"I take it that you would remain as well?" she asked once Alexa was set on her feet again.

"But of course," she said. "I love you truly, but if anything, our little adventure proved to me that I don't have the joy for it that you do. I will be content to read my books and take up a sword if and only if needs be."

Diana bowed her head, her tears finally brimming over. Her friends held to her.

"You aren't leaving just yet," said Artemis. "There is no need for goodbyes just now."

"And you will be returning," said Alexa, "won't you?"

"If and when I can," Diana said. "This is a new feeling. I am doing what I want, but I do not wish to be parted from you, yet being parted from you is necessary for me to do what I want."

Alexa smiled, "I think that is called maturity."

"Gods forbid," laughed Artemis, and both her and Alexa were promptly pitched back into the spring fed pond to laugh and swim there way back.

That night, Diana was curled between them, ready for sleep. She was trying to wish her worry away for the future she could not foresee, when a hush seemed to fall over the night. Diana stirred, and found that she could hear nothing. Her friends were not breathing. No one was making a sound. It was so quiet she could hear her own heart beating in her chest. She sat straight up, looking at her friends, they were not cold but they were unearthly still. Something seemed to break through to her and she realized that whatever was happening, it was happening to everyone. Everyone, but her.

Without a word, she rose and dressed. He found her belt and settled it about her hips, fitting perfectly, sword and lasso falling perfectly into place. She slung the shield at her back and prepared for a fight. Sliding her tiara into place, she walked out into the night, ready for anything.


	7. Chapter 7: Twelve

Diana walked among the huts, listening. There was not a whisper of breath or the beating of a heart or a touch of wind. She watched and saw that not even the grass moved, save for that upon which she tread. She considered and knew what she must try. She walked to the nearest watering jug and spilt some water. As she turned the ladle, the water tipped and stuck in the air, unmoving as well. In that, she had her answer. Time seemed to have stuck. Without another consideration, she went to The Temple of Hera.

She came to the tree, hoping for some sign, but there was nothing. Here was as still as the rest of the island. She did not give in to worry, and simply waited.

"Your insight serves you well," said a voice behind her.

Diana turned. She wore a white tunic and simple sandals of an odd shape. Auburn was her hair in the light of the moon, and she was very athletic and rather pretty.

"Who are you?" asked Diana. "I knew every woman on Themyscira, but I do not know you."

"I'm visiting," she said with a careless laugh. "I can't stay. Would you like to come with me?"

Diana thought about it, "If I don't?"

She smiled, "Then you stay here."

Diana thought it through, "As I am, with time stuck."

She laughed, "Not stuck, princess. You are simply moving so fast that it seems so."

Diana looked at her, "I suppose I do not have a choice."

"You do," she said back. "You always have a choice."

Diana resettled her shield and sat a hand on her hilt.

"Lead on," she said. And newcomer smiled and began to walk.

They headed upward, towards the highest pick on Themyscira. As they walked, Diana felt ill at ease. She realized that she knew the grounds of this mountain well, but as they walked, it seemed… different. As they climbed ever upwards, the shape of the land and the peak before them began to change as they climbed. It became higher and broader, larger still than the island itself, and still they climbed. They began to pass pools of still water, so calm as to be mirrors, perfectly still and perfectly round. Thin though the air should be, Diana found that she could breathe as easily as she could at the level of the sea, though they were several times higher again than the mount of Themyscira.

"What is happening?" Diana asked, and she realized her guide was not as He once had been.

Standing before her was the male version of who she had been with before. He was trim, athletic and pretty, as before, but He was also taller, though not as tall as others of His kind that she had met. His sandals bore wings, and in His relaxed grip was the caduceus. He grinned at her as she looked on, a gentle glow seeming to radiate from Him.

"Hermes?" she asked, astonished.

"None other!" He laughed. "I must say, you look ravishing this side of the veil. Our world does become you!"

Diana turned. Stepping to the mirror pool, she looking down upon herself.

She wore robes of finery the likes of which she had never seen. They were pure white, without shadow or highlight, and, loose and comfortable thought they were, they clung to her torso as to display her shape in a most comely fashion, exposing more of her chest than her usual tunics. The bracers about her wrists were gone, replaced with simple silver rings that she could not easily slip about her hands. Her belts was now a silver large-looped chain that ran about her, hung with a pointed cross and a disk engraved with a bird on the wing, interwoven with a cord of purest gold. Her hair was fastened, up and off the neck, with a golden laurels, a single star-ruby fixed to her forehead between the leading leaves. Her eyes were bright and her perfect skin seemed to radiate the same gentle glow that His did. She realized that she felt light and strong in a way that she never had. She felt no pressing need to breathe or eat or relieve herself. She was free of all earthly hindrances.

"Come," Hermes said, a wicked smile upon Him. "There will be time enough to admire yourself. We are waited for."

Diana found that climbing in the robes was easier than she expected. It was fast going, and she kept up easily, finding it easier to leap from stone to stone than simply climb.

"Here," Hermes said as they came to the point at which the mountain's surface was vertical. "Allow me."

He plucked a single feather from His sandal and kissed it. He tossed it at her, like an arrow, and it struck through her breast. There was feeling like flame licking through her, white hot and piercing, yet wholly without pain. Diana compulsively let go, a normally fatal act while placed so preciously. But, as her hands and feet left the rock, she hung in the air, as though freed from the pull of gravity.

"Come," said Hermes, positioned as if reclining in the air beside her. "This way will be much faster."

He pointed the caduceus and it was as though it pulled him up and forward. Diana watched, then pointed her fist in a similar fashion. Nothing happened. Hermes returned, circling about her with a flock of laughter.

"The motion is not what does it," He chortled. "You must will it so as well."

Diana snorted, and willed herself at Him. He looked suddenly abashed, so quick was she as she gave Him chase. He dodged and redoubled His own speed and she fought to keep up with Him, but keep up she did. At last, they set themselves upon the mount itself, out of breath for laughing.

"You are very good," said Hermes. "Perhaps we might have a race some time."

Diana smiled, "Would that I were ready to lose!"

He shook His head, "A wager! I find that we always give our best when we have something genuine to lose."

Diana shook her head in turn, "Perhaps. Another time."

Hermes looked disappointed but brightened quickly.

"Come," He said. "Our Father waits for us."

Before Diana could speak, she saw where He was crossing to. Upon The Mount, taking up most of it, was a hall so pure and fine, she could not look upon it without squinting, even in this place. It shone like the sun, like light and life. It was beautiful to the point that Diana felt tearful, and she quickly followed, not wanting to keep the Occupants of that House waiting.

"Welcome to Olympus!" cried Hermes as they walked between the pillars, so vast that Diana could lay head to head with herself upon the cross section and still not reach both edges. The vastness should have caused the dwelling to feel empty, but it felt full of life and as though those within could see all and know all.

They walked into the Receiving Hall, and there, Diana came up short. Twelve seats faced her, only two of which were empty. Each were filled with a God or Goddess, of that Diana had no doubt. Hermes took his seat on the far left, leaving Diana to fend for herself. Deciding, she came forth with a confident and full gate, as though marching. Upon reaching the first of the steps up to the throne like chairs, she stopped and stooped, bowing low but not debasing herself, before the Gods.

"The Gods be praised," she said.

"Welcome!" came a throaty voice, booming and gracious. "Welcome, Daughter, to Mount Olympus and Our House."

He stood from the throne, tall, dark of beard and shoulder-length hair, shot through with scraggly gray and white. He was easily the largest of them all, twice and half again her height, but as He walked down the stars to stand before her, He began to shrink in mass and size, until He was a head taller than her. He hugged her and Diana was taken about when He lifted her into the air.

"Thank you for your timely arrival," He said. "The last fool who came before Us had to be dragged here. That you came here willingly is so very pleasing to Me."

He set her down, enough for her to see that He wore the same shockingly white robes that she did. And, for her to realize they were not alone.

"Daughter," came the reverent whisper, and Diana found herself embraced again, but this embrace she knew. She had felt it every day, every time her mother held her in her arms. There was a warmth to it, the strength and vigor she felt every time she called for aid.

She had meant to speak Her name, but as she opened her mouth, only the single word could come from it.

"Mother," she all but sighed, and the Goddess gave a laugh that sounded almost tearful.

"And Fa-" He began to speak, but a sound like screeching bird split the air, and He was silenced. Diana however, seemed completely unaffected.

"Thank you," she said earnestly, and felt Her hand on her face.

"You are most welcome, child," she said. "I am so very proud of you. You have grown into a remarkable woman."

Diana put her hand on Hers.

"I don't understand," she said. "I know to the very foundations of me that you are my mother, but I have no doubt Hippolyta is my mother too."

Hera smiled, a proud and fierce smile, "We are not always held to such nonsense as a birth in the singular mortal way. For Us, reproduction is more... fluid."

"Which is to say that I can have two mothers?" Diana said.

"And," Zeus said, his voice as vast and looming as the skies overhead, "a father."

Diana turned, looking unsure. Hera hissed again.

"Be still Woman!" thundered the God of it. "You have spoken and I will as well."

Hera gave Him a hard look, readjusting the veil under the diadem upon her Head, a motion that spoke of girting oneself for unavoidable unpleasantness.

"Daughter," He said again. "Let me look at you. Your Mother has kept you from my sight too long out of spite, but I would bask in your loveliness a bit more."

He stepped back, marveling in her, and as He did so, Diana couldn't help but look about herself more.

Hera had returned to Her massive size and taken Her place upon the backless throne once again, where She held a massive brilliant peacock and stroked its upon Her lap, his plumage containing more than all the colors in the world, a lotus topped staff leant against the throne's side. She was to the right of center, Zeus' throne to the left. Beside Hera was another Goddess, her robes a pale green that shifted to pale gold, matching her hair the color of glorious wheat. A giant overflowing cornucopia was at Her feet, Her lotus staff in Her hands. She gave Diana a pleased smile.

"Thank you, for your love for my daughter, Diana of the Amazons," she said, her voice pure and sweet. "I am indebted to you."

Before Diana could think to answer, her attention was drawn down the line to the next Goddess. She was tall and still, looking somehow formidable, but in mind and bearing rather than in muscle or threat of violence. She wore long robes of deep blue and purple under an aegis what looked like metallic scales, whether formally living or a clever fabrication, Diana couldn't tell. She kept an olive tree to hand that nearly reached the armrest of Her throne and bowed Her crested-helmed head before Diana continued down.

The next Goddess was warm, inviting in her posture and bearing, her veiled and robed frame hidden and modest. She kept a kettle at her side and a hearth beside it, her bow welcoming and gracious.

Next came One who Diana felt an immediate kinship. Artemis had the same red hair as her namesake, though She was taller and more imposing, something Diana knew could only be achieved by a Goddess. Her bow and quiver looked to be made of purest silver and were as untarnished as platinum, and a pure white massive deer stood complacent beside Her. Her knee-length chiton was held fast and fitted with pelts and leather, and Her knowing smile and nod to Diana left her wondering.

Diana came to the last Goddess and her mouth fell completely open, her eyes wide. She was the most beautiful sigh Diana had ever beheld. She nearly lay across Her seat, cushion and comfortable, Her accouterments little more a draped cloth across her hips. She sat propped on one arm, posed, bare-breasted and seemingly aware of the effect She was having on Diana, if the knowing little smile was any indication. She pouted her lips prettily and moistened them, and somehow the little motion seemed to invite Diana away with Her to hidden places where all kinds of secret pastimes might be partaken of. In this, somehow, Diana found herself and stay her intended step forward. She recognized the desire for what it was, a distraction and a good one, but knew that there were more important dealings here for her. Somehow this only made the Goddess smile more and with greater interest.

Next, Diana went back to the Gods' side. Beside Zeus throne was one of the only two empty ones. It was set with well worn helmet and spear that had once been beautiful, but were now blooded and seemed preferred that way.

Then came one Who seemed to have a leg made of the same stuff that made Diana's bracers and the bow and quiver of Artemis. His throne was little more than a flat, carved section of beautifully tooled stone, an anvil under one arm. His bearded face was open and proud, if holding hurt in the back of His eyes. He smiled and nodded as she continued on.

Then, the next God was almost frightful in His stance before his Throne, standing with a fierce trident and a luxurious beard, his broad shoulders stuck with barnacles and algae and tiny shells. He was tall and proud, kingly and undaunted.

Next came a young looking God who wore only a draping of cloth about one arm, holding a lyre. His other was slung with a bow and quiver, his handsome beardless face compelled as he smiled at Diana. Her eyes lingered on the unabashed display of Himself longer than they did any other God or Goddess, save one.

The last throne was empty as well, though was nearly dwarfed by the piles of gold and jewels about it, set on a bed of skulls. A chain was fastened to one armrest and a drinking horn was set upon the other. It looked to get little use.

"Know of Us?" Zeus asked. "What be our names?"

Diana recited from memory as she had looked upon them, "Our Mother Hera, Demeter of the Harvest, Goddess of Wisdom Athena, Hestia of Hearth and Home, Artemis The Huntress, Aphrodite of Love and Desire."

She turned to him with a smile he returned, "Naturally, You are our Father Zeus. Next seated is Hephaestus of Flame and Craft, then The Sea King Poseidon and Apollo God of-"

Diana gave a delicate cough, and said God smiled and winked.

"Beauty and the Arts," she finished, and indicated, "The vacant seats are Your Son and Your Brother."

She nearly spat, the first but pronounced the latter with more grace, if bad grace, "Ares of War and Hades of Wealth and the Underworld."

"Right in all!" cried Zeus, his voice caroming about the hall and to the sky. "Well spoken."

The Gods and Goddess laughed or smiled, all but Hera who sighed at Her Husband, almost smiling begrudgingly.

Diana looked about, "Where does Hermes sit?"

"I don't," said the God, appearing as if from nowhere. "Never do!"

He promptly vanished again.

Zeus smiled, taking her arm and whispering conspiratorially, "He does that all the time. I swear, he taught it to the champion of Nyx upon Earth."

Diana was momentarily confused, but Zeus went on.

"I am sure that you are wondering why you are here," He said.

Diana smiled, "Honestly, I have been more concerned with simply being pleased to be meeting family."

He smiled at that, "You are darling, child."

She looked hesitant, but He smiled and said, "Ask, child."

She swallowed, "You are truly my father?"

He looked a little sad.

"I am," He said. "I could see what potential there was in you and added a bit of myself to your creation as did your Mother. She was less than happy about it."

Hera glared but Zeus only laughed.

"No one can hold a grudge like your dear Mother," He proclaimed, smiling. "You are special Diana, unique. You have three parents, two of whom are Gods. You are two thirds a sibling to Hephaestus, and Ares."

Diana jerked violently at this, "...Brothers?"

He smiled, "Yes."

Diana looked about them, realizing that this was truly a meeting with family. She was sibling to most, niece to the rest. So lost was she to this unveiled truth that it took her by surprise to find all of Them standing about her, her size. Hera and Zeus stood back, hand in hand, while the Others came to set hands upon her and embrace her, kiss her and cast blessing upon her. She felt at peace and loved in a way she had never felt before. Overwhelmed and overcome, she was led to another room and found herself set a small table, ladened with indescribable food and drink. She took her fill, left alone for a moment for her to decompress and take in all that she had learned thus far. Standing when she was ready, she went looking for her Father.

She found Him at the heights of The Temple. She passed Apollo and Aphrodite whispering together, watching her, and came to Him at the parapet of the tallest temple tower.

"Father," she asked, and He smiled.

"Daughter," He acknowledged. "What can I say to thee?"

"Why am I here?" she asked, knowing He had much to tell her on this point.

"You are here because I want you to go on a quest," He said.

She nodded, "What sort of a quest?"

He smiled, "You do not wish to know why?"

"Should I?" she asked, curious.

He laughed, "You should do as you wish! But I find your willingness... agreeable. You are ready to do what is asked of you and I am pleased."

He looked down, and while the clouds were thick ever-present, Diana found she could look down and see through them. There was too much for her to see it all, but she could see that this was not the world she once knew, nor the world that Aresia had described to her. She could see chariots that could pull themselves, large metal birds with fixed wings that soared the skies, only to see that they were vehicles of some kind, allowing people to board and cross the... globe? She could see those speaking through tablets that glowed and changed their words or spoke themselves, giving visions of other places and people and events. She saw new machines of war and new crafts. She heard the echoes of music that was unlike anything a mouth or instrument she knew of could product, foods that she had never considered, dress in styles she could never imagine, love, death, disease, pain, pleasure, addiction, salvation, hope, truth.

"I want you to go there," said Zeus.

Diana nodded, trying to take it all in, "Why?"

He smiled again, "Someone strikes at Me from there. They are gathering power against Me, to take MY THRONE!"

He voice split the air and lightning cracked along with it, jumping throughout the clouds. For a moment, Diana could see the strength in Him, the power and the ability to do violence. She could see that His Son paled in comparison to the Father.

The moment passed, and He was as He was before.

"I know not whom," he said. "Their method is unknown to me and their identity escapes my notice."

Diana frowned, "How is that possible?"

He laughed, "All knowing We are not. As Gods, We simply know all that We will ever learn. It is not memory but knowledge. I will not know the future, but I know everything that I will ever learn."

Diana nodded, "You will never know who it is."

"Correct," He said. "I will need another, an emissary, one who can go forth and stop this usurper and bring them to justice."

He turned to her, "I want you to do it."

Diana nodded, "How do I get there?"

He smiled, "You will need to wait for your Icarus."

Her brow furrowed, but she nodded, "What else do I need to know?"

He shook his head, smiling, "The Gods only know!"

She smiled too, but found Hermes at her elbow. She turned back to her Father.

"I am to return to Themyscira? So soon?" she asked, feeling suddenly bereft. "I have but just arrived!"

He hugged her, "Worry not, Daughter. We will meet again. Your place among Us is assured and you will return, as needed."

Suddenly, Hera was at her arm and looped Hers through hers.

"Come, child," She said. "I would not have My Husband monopolize you. I would talk with you before you leave."

Hermes and Zeus all but vanished, and Hera walked with her down towards the entrance she had come through. Not a God nor Goddess was present in passing.

"You know that this quest will be hard," Hera said.

"Yes," said Diana. "Am I not up to the task?"

Hera gave her a knowing smile, "If anyone is, it is you, child."

Diana smiled, if a little weakly.

"I request caution," She said. "There is more going on here than even I can see or say. It has the feel of proxies working for proxies, and it leaves the true culprit hidden. This quest will require you to learn of the World, but also to investigate it. It will require more hunting than it will to treeing your quarry."

Diana nodded, "How will I know when the deed is rightly done?"

Hera took a deep, proud breath, "We will send you undeniable word. Should you need counsel, speak my name, and I will find a way to converse with you."

Diana considered, "And should I need another's counsel?"

Hera snorted but grinned, "Such directness! You truly are a wonder."

Hermes finally appeared at the entrance.

"Visit again, child," She said, kissing the ruby at Diana's forehead.

"I will," said Diana, over her shoulders, seeing Her holding both sides of Her veil in Her fist.

"Goddess speed!" said Hera, and Diana saw that the Others had joined Her and cast out Their farewells after her. As they left the stone of The Temple steps, they lifted into the air once more and flew down the slopes with a speed that Diana felt hard-pressed to maintain. At last, they alighted upon the earth again, finding themselves on the mount of Themyscira. Diana looked behind her and found that Olympus was gone.

"How was it done?" she asked, awed.

Hermes grinned, once again Herself, "Like begets like. If you know the way, any mountain can get you to any mountain. Any shore can get you to any shore and so on."

She looked down to find that she was once again in her tunic, her sword and shield to hand, her glow diminished.

"Here I leave you," She said. "Return to your slumber where you were, and you will wake in the morning. Call upon me should you ever have need."

"I will," she said, clasping arms with her. "Thank you, sister."

She laughed, "You are most welcome!"

After She vanished and the silent walk, Diana came to rest between her friends once more. She was happy and ready, with no idea what the future held, but finally ready to meet it.


	8. Chapter 8: Him

"A quest?" asked Hippolyta, looking unsure. "In Man's world?"

Diana didn't like the distinction for some reason, but said nothing about it.

"Yes," she said.

"And you are certain it was no dream?" asked The Oracle.

Diana smiled humorlessly, "I am certain. The things I saw, the things I did, where beyond imagination."

"You were in the company of the Gods?" asked Alexa. "Truly?"

Diana sighed.

"Yes," she affirmed, for what felt like the fifteenth time or so.

"What were they like?" asked Alexa, sounding eager and intrigued.

"Like..." Diana said, playing it over in her head, "like a family. Like family."

She hadn't disclosed just how literal she was being about that. The Oracle gave her a knowing look. Somehow, Diana got the impression that she knew and said nothing.

"How did you say you were to get there?" asked Hippolyta again. "By Icarus?"

"Zeus said," said Diana, yet again, "I must away my Icarus, whatever that means."

"It sounds," said The Oracle, "you await he who falls from the sky through hubris."

"But how will that get me to the outside world?" asked Diana. "It makes no sense."

"You will know," said The Oracle, "when you are meant to know, and not before."

Diana shook her head, "I wish I had the wisdom to know how that was helpful."

Hippolyta laughed and kissed her daughter's forehead.

"If you knew," she said, "then you wouldn't need to learn."

Diana glared at her mother as long as she could before she could suppress the laughter no longer.

"Thank you, mother," she said, still chuckling.

They stood from the table Hippolyta kept in their home for just such conferences. They began walking out.

"Let us know if you discover something new," Hippolyta requested. "We should begin to patrol the island, just to be sure."

Diana nodded, "I will circle it today."

"We shall accompany you," said Artemis, and Alexa nodded.

Diana felt hesitant, "Maybe this is something I must do alone."

Artemis gave her a narrow look, "I doubt that, since we have freewill of our own and we are coming with you."

Diana smiled, "I see you point."

Alexa grinned too.

They took horses, even though Diana could have made better time alone, though her friends couldn't keep up. It was the easiest compromise.

"You are being oddly quiet," said Diana to Artemis, as they made their way around a crescent cove.

"I am..." she said. "I am thinking. What did Demeter say, again?"

Diana thought carefully, "That she was grateful for the love I showed her daughter, and that she was in my debt. But what daughter? What debt?"

Alexa nodded to Artemis, "I am thinking that too."

Diana drew up her horses' reigns.

"What are you thinking?"

"Hermes," said Alexa.

"What about him?" asked Diana.

Artemis faced her, "He passed here in the guise of a woman."

"So," said Diana, and then she understood.

"What..." she began. "What if she... he... what if there were others, other Gods or Goddesses here, and we simply didn't know it?"

They both looked at Artemis, and she laughed.

"Not the most convenient name for a disguise," she smiled. "Beside, I am not nearly so skilled with a bow."

"You not skilled is still at least twice as good as most, Artemis," said Alexa, and Artemis conceded the fact.

Diana continued, "She said thank you for the love I show her."

Alexa sighed, "Is there anyone on this island you don't love?"

Diana grinned, "I am less than fond of you on occasion."

Alexa huffed.

"Whom do you love in particular?" she asked, trying to take the moral high ground and just looking superior.

"You two," Diana said. "My mother, of course."

"Persephone!" cried Alexa.

Artemis and Diana looked at each other.

"Do you think-" began Diana.

"Of course!" said Artemis. "My mother. She said her mother would come to visit. The Lord Hades was not so pleased with the idea."

They looked at her, and Alexa wondered, "Do you think she knew?"

Diana realized that she was cousin to her, at least. Maybe a sibling.

"I don't know," she said. "I don't really think it matters what-"

She heard it first. It was a low rumbling, a distant bloom of sound. The horses became uneasy, restless, and Diana turned.

"What is it?" Artemis asked.

"I don't know," said Diana. "I can't see."

She dismounted and slapped her horse, which ran for home. The others did the same, but had no idea why. Diana could see it then, out there, barely visible, even to her eyes. It was like a heat haze, a subtle shifting, a sliding of the sky, as though something running under the sky, like a fish under the water displacing a reflection of the clouds.

"Something is coming," she said. "Something large, given the distance."

They could all hear it then, a whine, high and metallic, unlike anything they had ever heard. And then, in a flash and a flicker, it was visible to them all.

Diana knew what it was. It was one of those vehicles, the ones that people rode amongst the clouds. She could tell from there that something was wrong, since the ones she saw didn't have billowing smoke coming from one side. She looked to her friends, finding that they had no idea what this thing was flying towards them. Diana knew that it was up to her to act, and to act alone.

"Stay here," she said. And the two others looked at her with more confusion.

"Where would we go?" asked Alexa, then rephrased, "Wait, where are you going?!"

Diana knelt, feeling the place in her breast where the feather resided.

"Hermes," she whispered, and leapt.

She was at the vehicle in moments, coming to land beside where the human sat behind glass. Her cries were unable to get through, and no communication was possible. Finally, she rushed under the vehicle, finding a place that looked sturdy between the wings at its base.

"Hera!" she screamed against the wind. "In your name!"

She pressed slowly into it, slowing the vehicle and finding that the more she lifted, the hard the wind pushed against the underside and slowed it further. She sank lower with it, letting the water break at her feet and allowed the metal creation to begin skipping upon the waves, slowing it more. By the time they reached the crescent beach, the vehicle was mostly supported by Diana, though the end was still somewhat in the water. She dragged it completely onto the beach and carefully set it down, a feat of strength she had yet to match.

"That was amazing!" said Alexa. "You flew!"

Diana turned to the vehicle, "As did..."

The orb of glass opened, and out came the vehicles occupant.

"That was..." he said. "That was really something."

Diana understood his strange language, though she knew the others did not.

"What did he say?" asked Alexa, looking both nervous and curious, and nervous that she was curious.

"Do you..." he asked. "You don't speak English by any..."

He looked at them, closely.

"Wow," he said. "I guess they don't believe in underwear... wherever it is I am."

Diana crossed her arms.

"What is it?" asked Alexa.

"I believe he is ogling us," Diana said.

"By what right?" demanded Artemis.

"Whoa, hey," he said, holding up his hands and stepping back. "That sounded less than friendly."

Diana looked at him. He wore nothing like any garment she had ever seen. It was olive green and cover him completely from the neck down. It looked rather warm. It was sown with many insignias, and she found she recognized the words.

Diana drew her sword, and at almost the same time, Artemis did the same.

"He is a soldier," Diana clarified.

"Hey," he said, his tone becoming rougher, more demanding. "That looks a lot like hostile activity. I don't want to hurt you."

He took something from his hip, something of an odd shape that he held in a single hand. As soon as Artemis stepped sideways, to flank him, the object came up, pointing, his stand becoming one who has drawn a bow.

"It is a weapon," said Artemis.

Diana was unimpressed.

"I have him," she said. Artemis backed down. Putting her sword away, she walked at him with purpose.

"Hey," he said. "I don't want to hurt you."

Diana was ready.

"Get back," he said. "Final warning."

She didn't listen. He fired.

There was a sound like a breaking tree limb under intense strain. Diana brought up her wrist, meeting the small projectile that came from his weapon. It took all her speed, but she managed to block it squarely, so that it bounced harmlessly away, tumbling into the water.

"I said I don't want to hurt-" he cried, then looked closer, adding more quietly, "Um. What?"

Diana took up the golden cord at her hip.

He looked suddenly scared, and fired again. Diana was even more ready than before, and with a flick of her wrist, the projectile was tossed upward, twirling upwards to fall harmlessly somewhere behind her. She whipped out the cord, and it tied itself neatly, unnaturally well around the weapon. With a twist, the weapon spun out of his grip with enough force that he was lifted into the air, twirling bodily away. Before he could land in the soft sand, the cord whipped around him at Diana's behest, and he thudded onto his leaning legs, wrapped in gold and ensnared.

He looked at Diana, not entirely scared, but also a bit awed.

"Okay," he said, "okay. Now what?"

Diana stepped closer, clenching what was left of the cord to her in her fist, and with Hera's blessing, spoke his language.

"Who are you?" she asked.

He looked momentarily taken aback. But then, the cord glowed and he spoke passionlessly.

"I am Steven Rockwell Trevor of the United States Air Force," he said.

The cord returned to its usual shine and his eyes bugging out a bit.

"What the hell was that?" he asked in his previous tone. "What did you do?"

"Why are you here, Steven Rockwell Trevor?" she asked, feeling herself clench the cord again and it glowed in response.

"I am here because the plane I was piloting lost power and was going to crash," he said evenly again. "I had no choice in the matter."

"You fell from the sky," Diana said, relaxing, the glow receding.

"In a manner of speaking," he said. "Who are you? What is this place?"

Diana nodded, then with a shake, the cords loosened.

"Thank you," he said "I-"

She then jerked the cords, the remaining bit still around his crossed wrists behind his back dragging him around.

"Hey!" he said. "This is getting a little kinkier than I like."

Diana gave him a narrowed eyed look.

"Okay," he said. "Maybe this is just as kinky as I like, but that isn't the point. What the heck is going on?"

She stood tall, "I am Diana, Princess of the Amazons, Daughter of Hippolyta, Hera, and Zeus. You are trespassing on the Island of Themyscira, Steven Rockwell Trevor, and you are now my prisoner until such time as we decide how best to deal with you."

He stared at her for a moment, then said, "Well, that was kinda hot. Ow!"

He was tugged around before her.

"Walk," she commanded, and walk he did.

"A man," said Alexa. "A man on Themyscira! What are we going to do?"

Diana considered, "It isn't for us to decide. The Queen will decide."

"You know that's rude," he said. "I can't exactly speak... what are you speaking?"

"Greek," said Diana.

He frowned, "I've heard Greek. That doesn't sound like Greek."

"It is very old Greek," said Diana.

"Really?" he asked, turning to face them, "How old?"

The moment Diana's mouth opened to speak, he jumped into the air. Using both feet, he kicked Artemis in the chest. The blow caused her to take a step backward, but flung him forward to land on his back. He managed not to land on his wrists, and he managed to work his arms around his legs, pulling up his hands in front of him.

Artemis and Diana exchanged a glance.

"He kicks well," said Artemis, "but he isn't strong."

Diana considered, "I think it is like when Aresia first arrived here. He might kick strong to those in the outside world, but to us, he is but a child."

He didn't look happy to be ignored.

"Are we fighting here or what?" he asked.

They looked to Alexa.

"What?" she asked, looking frightened.

"It's good practice," said Artemis. "You are unlikely to find a better foe to do so on. I doubt he could kill you even if you let him and even a child could win against him."

Diana nodded, "Sure. We will be here if things get out of hand."

Alexa sighed, "Okay."

Diana nodded again, then loosed Trevor.

He looked confused, "What? What gives?"

"Fight her," she said, indicating Alexa.

He looked even more confused, "What? Why?"

Diana shrugged, "It is a good lesson."

He smiled, looking at the woman who was noticeable smaller than himself, "I am sure I can teach her a thing or two."

Diana smiled too, "Of course."

Alexa took a rudimentary fighting stance. His was practiced and well-used, if entirely different from any they knew. He was turned slightly to one side, balanced, as defensive and it was offensive, his guard close but wide, the elbows closer together than his raised fists. Alexa's was rough, but the Amazon's traditional stance; weight mostly on the front foot, the back raised on the ball, the front hand nearly fully extended, the back fist horizontal with the front elbow, the shoulders lightly before the hips. It was chiefly offensive and easily maneuverable.

He came in first, throwing a punch at her stomach as he danced off her center line. He struck twice with the same fist, then crossed her front line while striking at her face with the off hand. He didn't exactly use his full might, but he was not gentle either. Alexa took the first two blows without much trouble, but was staggered to the side with the second. Shaking her head, she cleared it and turned back to find that her opponent was shaking his fists.

"Ugh," he said, "God. Are you ladies made out of brick or something."

"Or something," said Diana. "Again."

He tried again, and again, and each time, Alexa got better at avoiding his blows. Soon he was out of breath and his knuckles looked swollen.

"He fights well," said Artemis. "He doesn't believe in all out assault, but in this case, it wouldn't suit him well."

Diana considered, "Perhaps we should give him a day to recover and throw him to Antiope and see what lessons she can teach with him."

"Alright," he said. "Okay, I'm out. I'm done."

Diana nodded, "She has been training for a few weeks."

He nodded, "Yeah. I can tell. I'm done meaning that I won't try to fight you. God, I wouldn't want to fight you."

"One?" asked Diana.

"One what?" he asked.

She crossed her arms, "One God?"

He looks at her, "Greek you said. Right... Zeus, you mentioned. Wait. Did you say you were Zeus' daughter?"

Her expression didn't change.

"Alright," he said. "Okay. Are you going to tie me up again, because that would be super."

Diana reached out and grabbed him by the scruff of his uniform, lifting him into the air.

"Whoa!" he cried. "Hey! Fine! I can walk!"

She caught his wrists up in the cord again and they walked into the village. Soon there was a throng of curious or reproachful women following them.

"I'm dead," he said.

"What?" asked Diana.

"I've died, right?" he asked, eyeing the women. "This is heaven, isn't it?"

Diana kicked him. He landed face first in the dirt.

"Hey!" he cried. "I'm getting really tired of that!"

She grabbed him by the collar, "As am I! We are not slabs of meat, hung for your inspection! We are not things to be used by the likes of you! We are Amazons, and you will respect us as is our due or you will face our wrath!"

He got up, unsteadily, "Have I injured you?"

She looked at him, "What do you mean?"

He narrowed his eyes, "Have I don't you bodily harm?"

"No," she said.

"You have hurt me," he nearly exclaimed. "You have treated me as an object, as little more than a plaything. How is your treatment of me any different?"

She glared back, "I am doing nothing that you wouldn't do if you were in our position."

"That doesn't make it right!" he shouted back. He then froze, looking confused. He looked at the cord, then back to her.

"Huh," he said, then more naturally, quietly. "I am your prisoner, a trespasser, as you say. But so far, I have done nothing to you that does you harm."

"You shot at me," said Diana.

"And you were unharmed," he said. "You have power, and what have you done with that power? Toyed with me, for your friend's benefit? Abused me because you don't like the words I speak?"

Diana grabbed the front of his shirt, "You are nothing but an entitled man!"

He didn't back down, "And you are nothing but a powerful woman, toting her power over a man to prove your own superiority."

Diana froze. She blinked at him for several moments. She looked around. In the faces around her, curious though many of them were, she could see it then. In each and every one of them, expressed in anger or mistrust or worry or unease or doubt or denial and more; every one of them was afraid. And in that, Diana could see, she was scared too.

Something in her eased. She let go of his uniform.

"This Island," she said evenly, "is our sanctuary, our haven from the world in which men abused us, killed and raped our kind. You are the first man who has ever been here, for our protection."

His eyes went wide. He looked around, and to her subtle awe, Diana could see as he looked at her face that he could see it now too, the fear. He too seemed to ease somehow, and in that, she could see that his words had not been at their expense, but his protection. He had been afraid and he was trying to protect himself by jest and artifice, but performing in a way that belied his fears and made him seem in control. But, in truth, he was powerless before them, had had it proved to him, shoved in his face. What would she do, was she in his place? Would she be so much more noble?

"I am sorry, Steven Rockwell-"

"Just Steve," he said, a bit harshly. But then, taking in her tone and her face, he added, gently, "You can call me Steve."

She smiled, and Steve's face went nearly blank in shock.

"I..." he stammered, "Wow."

They continued walking, but this time, they walked beside one another to the steps of The Temple of Hera.

Antiope, Hippolyta, and the Oracle stood at the head of the gathering, which made way as Diana and Steve walked to the steps. They came to a stop at the lowest step.

"Speak only when asked a question," Diana informed him. "You are still a prisoner."

Steve nodded, "Whatever you say, Angel."

Diana looked sideways at him, but said nothing.

"Daughter," asked Hippolyta. "What has happened?"

Diana bowed, "My Queen. A man has found his way onto Themyscira. He traveled here in a vehicle called a plane, a sort of enclosed chariot capable of driving itself, with sails that allow it to ride upon the very air."

There were murmurs amongst the onlookers who fell silent at Hippolyta's raised hand.

"He is your Icarus?" she asked.

Diana looked at him, his light hair, his strength that was evident even in his capture.

"Yes," Diana said. "He is."

Hippolyta nodded, "Will you translate for us?"

"Yes," Diana said, and spoke, "I am to translate for you."

"How does that work exactly?" he asked.

"By Hera," she said, turning back to her more.

"Oh," he said. "Hera. Right."

"Who is he?" asked Hippolyta.

"He is Steven Rockwell Trevor," said Diana. "He is of a sect of his military from a place of United States. The sect calls itself an Air Force, known for its specialty in these planes, these crafts of air."

"How did he come to be here," Hippolyta asked.

"How exactly did you come to be here?" asked Diana. "Be specific."

The cord glowed, and Steve looked put out.

"I am a test pilot," he said evenly. "I was testing a craft with a new cloaking shield technology. While testing, I passed through a barrier of some kind that damaged one of my engines. After doing so, I saw this island and was forced to land."

Diana translated and explained as best she could.

"How does this cloaking technology work?" asked Hippolyta.

"I don't know," said Trevor. "I am not a scientist. It involves some kind of quantum mechanical properties that I do not even know how to describe. As soon as I passed into this place, I lost communications with my country. They may think I am dead."

"What does you country know of us?" asked Hippolyta.

"As far as I know," said Trevor, "nothing."

"What would they do if they knew?" asked Hippolyta.

"Likely," said Steve, "nothing. A single island of powerful beings that wish to be left alone doesn't really interest them. They may possibly set up diplomacy or perhaps surveillance to ensure that you are not planning invasion."

Hippolyta nodded, "A wise notion. Perhaps, it would be wiser still to attempt diplomacy with them ourselves."

She looked to Diana.

"Are you ready, daughter?" she asked.

Diana considered, "To depart, yes. Yet, I have no method to."

Hippolyta looked to the smiths.

"Can you repair this craft of air?" she asked them.

Diana stood taller, "I can show them the way, if Hermes wills it."

Hippolyta looked at her daughter, then nodded, "The God of Travel, of course."

Diana nodded, "It will take time. What should I do with our guest in the meantime?"

Hippolyta considered.

"He is your responsibility, daughter," she said. "He will not be out of your presence for a moment. Once you have repaired this craft of air, he is never to return, on pain of death."

Steve's eyes bugged a little as she translated.

"You all take your Women Only thing pretty seriously," he said.

"We do," said Diana.

"Very well, Steven Rockwell Trevor," said Hippolyta, "first man on Themyscira. You are not welcome, but we will tolerate your presence until such time that we can have you leave. You will take with you our daughter, Diana, to be a diplomat to your United States, so that peace may be maintained. She will remain in your world as a teacher, a leader, and an Amazon, to the benefit of all."

Steve nodded, "I will do all in my power to aid her."

Diana looked at him, "Why?"

He smiled, "If I am lucky, to hang around you a bit longer."

She looked at him, dubiously, "To what end?"

There was a bit of glow from the cord about his wrists, but it was less than it had been.

"I don't know," he said, his voice it's usual self, "but I want to find out."


	9. Chapter 9: Departures

Diana entered the living space of her home, Steve in tow.

"What are we doing here, exactly?" asked Steve, feeling a bit nervous as they walked into what as decidedly a bedroom.

"Getting you something to wear," said Diana, finding a clean tunic. He was nearly her height, being only noticeable taller if you looked. Her hips were about the same size and his shoulders were wider, so the garment should fit him.

"Okay," said Steve, confused when she took up a second tunic.

"Come on," she said, and Steve followed, feeling exhausted just trying to keep pace with her, let allow asking questions on top of that.

They crested a hill and went down again, heading towards a separate, little used spring. Steve stopped, looking around, finding that between the rocky waterfall and the tree, it was pretty secluded.

"This is nICE!" he suddenly whipped his head to one side, covering his eyes.

"Are you alright?" asked Diana, half out of her tunic.

"I..." said Steve, "yeah, yes, okay, yeah. I'm fine. I just..."

"What?" she asked, stretching and staring at him. He was almost embarrassed and very passive.

"Nothing," he said, removing his hand and staring at the sky. "I'm just... where I'm from, people don't who barely know each other don't usually swim naked together."

She frowned at him, "Why not? How else would they swim?"

"With swimsuits," said Steve, letting his eyes drop from the clouds, but determined not to let his eyes stray below her cheekbones.

She laughed, "Why get redressed to swim when one is only going to get undressed to redress again?"

"I..." Steve began, then sighed, "I can tell we are going to have a lot to talk about."

He came forward and sat down near the water, keeping his eyes there as he took off his boots and unzipped his jumpsuit. He fanned himself, positively sweltering.

"Where I come from," he said, "women and men aren't... well, they keep themselves pretty separate for most things that involve nudity."

"Oh?" asked Diana strolling out into the water. Steve allowed himself to look at her once she was waist deep, finding she wasn't quite as deep as he thought and goggled for a moment before he remembered he wasn't supposed to be eyeing her.

"Yeah," he said. "See, when you have a society, everyone is expected to follow the same rules, so they sort of make the rules for those who need them the most. So, to avoid unseemly things like creepy assholes spying on women change clothes, they have them change clothes in different places."

Diana frowned and turned to face Steve, "Why not simply teach the 'creepy assholes' why it is pointless to spy on women changing clothes?"

"Because..." Steve said, "I... its pointless?"

He pulled his eyes up to her face once he remembered himself.

Diana shook her head, "Have you never seen a naked woman before?"

His eyes went wide, "Of course I have! What are you suggesting?"

"That you keep staring at me as though you never have," she replied crossing her arms immodestly.

Steve shook his head, "Well, I thought I had."

"You just said that you had," she pointed out, looking somewhat annoyed.

"You heard that?" he asked, astonished.

"I have very good ears," she replied. "What did you mean?"

It took Steve several moments to get the words out, "You are a very attractive woman."

"Yes," she said, completely indifferent, "and?"

"What?" Steve said defensively.

"I don't understand you," said Diana, "why are you staring at me?"

Steve sighed, sounding aggravated, "Because you are naked."

Diana's tone and posture matched his, "And naked women are to be started at?"

"Yes!" he almost shouted, and Diana was taken aback.

"I'm telling you," he said. "Women aren't naked in front of men. It is a point of contention in my country if it should be legal for women to even expose their breast in public. Nearly the only time men are allowed to see women naked is just before they have sex. You do know what sex is?"

"Yes," she said, a smile quirking at her lips as she adopted his previous tone in a playful manner, "Of course I do. What are you suggesting?"

He stifled a chuckle.

"So," he went on, "you can understand why I might be a little mixed up."

She bobbed her head, "I am not going to have sex with you."

He looked shocked and perhaps even a little disappointed.

"So," she said, "there is no problem."

He snorted.

"What?" she asked.

"That doesn't help anything," he said.

She dropped her head back, soaking her hair, "Why not?"

He took the hint and went back to removing his boots and jumpsuit, leaving him in boxer briefs and a white T-shirt, his dog tags dangling.

"Because," he said, "women don't always mean what they say."

"I do," she replied.

He shook his head, "I would believe you, but my entire experience with women is contradicting you."

She stopped running her hands through her hair and looked at him.

"Are you not getting in?" she asked.

He looked suddenly very nervous, "Oh, no, I am."

She stared at him.

"It's just... cold," he said, swallowing.

"Are you used to a much hotter climate?" she asked, "It must be uncomfortable. Why do you wear such thick clothing then? Or do you wear such thick clothing because you are cold?"

"No," he said, taking off his shirt. "Never mind."

He pulled off his socks, sighing, then completely stripping.

He started walking into the water until he saw her staring so intently at him.

"What?" he asked. "Have you never seen a naked man before?"

"I haven't," she said, and he came up short.

"Well," she said. "I have seen a naked God before, but I do not think that would count."

"No, it doesn't," he said quickly. "For a man, I'm quite..."

"Quite what?" she asked.

He hurried into deeper water, "Never mind."

Diana considered for a moment, remembering his posturing from before.

"You're afraid?" she asked, sounding compassionate.

"No!" he blurted, looking more frightened.

"What is it?" she asked, and something about her expression and tone eased something in him, though Steve couldn't have said why.

"I..." he said, sounding embarrassed. "I don't know how to say it."

"Okay," she said, stepping just a bit closer, but not so much as to be intrusive.

He looked at her, patient, understanding, interested, and something about that made Steve feel sort of vulnerable, more so then when he hadn't been waist deep in the water. He wanted to drop his eyes from her, but something about her searching his face, her intent eyes on him, made him feel captivated by her and as though he was captivating to her as well. And her eyes, her eyes were such a world of blue. Catching the light, they were vast, like the sky, but he had seen them flash with anger and they had looked like storm clouds. Shadowed, they looked gray and strong, and when she smiled, they welled something within him that he had never felt in his entire life.

"Judgment," he felt fall from his lips.

"I'm sorry?" she asked, and she stepped closer, which he found he didn't mind at all.

"I am..." he started and stopped. "There is a lot of judgment in my... where I'm from. There are so many people, we don't know who to value."

"Value everyone," she said simply.

He laughed, not a happy sound, "It isn't that easy. Everyone here seems... not exactly happy, but I think that has more to do with me."

Diana nodded, "Mostly, we are happy here."

"Not so much there," he said. "People are unhappy and cruel, and they have no problem being harsh or even violent towards people they may never see again."

Diana looked truly dismayed, "That's horrible."

"That's everyday life," he said. "We need to know who to value, who to trust, and that... that can be hard. We come up with ways to value others; the money in their wallet, the expensiveness of their car, the quality of our clothes, our weight, our..."

He glanced downward, "anatomy."

He wasn't entirely sure when her hands took his, but he found his finger entwined with hers. It felt so relaxing, the cool water against his skin, her warm finger in his, her eyes on his full of... something. It wasn't quite concern, mostly... caring. She didn't say anything, or ever really do anything. She wasn't trying anything or getting anything. She just looked at him, with those gorgeous, understand, caring eyes, and he felt... something. He didn't understand it.

"You are not like any woman I have ever met before, Angel," he said, letting the awe he felt slip into his voice.

Her fingers left his hands and slid up his arms, "You are the only man I have ever met before."

He laughed but it stopped quickly, so intent was he upon the slide of her damp skin over his damp skin. He tried not to let his eyes bug wide as he was suddenly reciting baseball statistics and praying to all that was holy that she didn't step closer to him. Or maybe that she would...

She suddenly dove backwards into deeper water. Steve stood transfixed by the glimpse of her he got as she came completely out of the water and back down. Something kick started in his mind, something older, something he didn't fully understand, and he found himself going to meet her, swimming outward, his thoughts thin and loose, simply coming and going, less concrete than he usually felt them. But as those thoughts left, lessened, the world seemed to swell, to become more substantial, more real. He was with her, swimming comfortably, with no need to be anywhere else; not the future nor the past had any hold on him. He was held to now.

And so it went. Steve slept on the beach, with her. They gathered blankets and food from her home and camped on the beach beside the cloaking fighter. He was hard-pressed to understand how exactly she was going to go about repairing a jet, but he couldn't help but be enthralled, watching her build a forge. She was faster than any mortal, and once it was set with clay bricks and all the tools, she made the biggest anvil he had ever seen. She examined the plane for from time to time, whispering under her breath, and then would go to the forge and take up metal ingots and begin working them. She made precise pieces that were preternaturally perfect for being forged by somewhat more than human hands. She built with the skill of a master craftswoman, and in a bit under a fortnight, the craft was fully repaired.

"I wouldn't have thought it was possible," he said, standing on the beach, "but so little of this place and you is even believable. You are a wonder, woman."

She smiled, "Wonder woman?"

He couldn't help but grin, feeling foolish.

"Yeah," he said. "You really are."

She nodded, "Wonder Woman... I like that. Are you ready?"

He checked the zipper on his jumpsuit, "Yes."

The gathering was large as it could be. Every Amazon that could was there. They stood together in ceremony as Diana walked among them, Steve walking behind her. He stopped respectfully at the bottom of the steps to The Temple, where Hippolyta stood with the two other elders, proud, bidding her daughter farewell.

"What you have said has come to pass," said Diana, and her mother smiled.

"I don't regret it," said Hippolyta.

"Nor I," said Diana. "I shall visit, when I might."

"And be welcomed," said her mother, and those close enough and with keen enough eyes might have seen the nearly brimming tears.

"We have something for you," said Antiope, pulling a bundle and tossing it to Diana. She opened it in a trice.

What she held was armor. It was in the colors of the United States, the leather stained beautifully. The studded red leather jerkin was fitted with a golden breastplate in the vague shape of a bird in flight or perhaps the double vs, and with a few tugs, she could tell it would protect her and allow her free movement with ease. It didn't escape her notice that the belt she wore was the same shape as the intersection between the jerkin and the skirt. The skirt was a brilliant blue and panels, each set with a white pentagonal star, was long enough that it would cover her thighs and still allow her kicks to be high and unrestricted. The boots were a feat of craftsmanship, made of metal, yet still gold and red, about to bend and flex in all the right ways in all the proper places. Steve politely looked way a few seconds after he realized she was dressing then and there.

Once in the garb, her shield at her back, her sword and lasso at her hips, her stance tall and proud, she turned. There was a murmur of awe that permeated the crowd.

"Thank you," she said. "To all of you. Each and every one of have been a part of my life, helped guide me, taught me, forged me into the woman I am today. I could not have gotten here without you, and you have helped me become a better person for it. I love you all and I will visit, come home, when I am able. You will be missed."

"As will you," said Artemis, standing at the front of the group. There was a smattering of laughter. Diana walked down the steps and embraced her friend. Taking a pair of fingerless gloves from her belt, Artemis fitted them over Diana's hands without a word. Know her friend, Diana allowed the forcefully given parting gift, kissing her goodbye before turning to a tearful Alexa.

"I didn't think it would be this hard," said Alexa, sniffling.

Diana chuckled, endeared and a bit tearful herself.

"What is hard about it?" she asked. "We are merely going to be apart. We lose nothing but the idea of what might be, which is something that never could be. I will be back. We will see each other again."

Alexa smiled, giving a brave nod and handing over a small leather bound book, the pages empty and ready to be filled. Diana kissed her as well, and received pats and a few embraces in passing as she worked her way through the women around her. Then, at the edge of the crowd, she stopped. She turned to Steve, again walking behind her.

"Wait here," she said, and nodded to Artemis who wordless agreed to watch him. Diana walked back towards The Temple. Her mother bowed her head in approval as she passed, and The Oracle joined her. She walked passed the tree at the center of The Temple, down into the opening. After a short walk in total silence, she came to the Overworld Sanctum.

Aresia sat as she always had, bowed and unmoving. There were candles here now, and stacks of untouched books. The thin pillow she used to sleep sitting up was at her side, as was a plate of mostly uneaten food. She barely raised her head as the two women approached her. She snorted as she saw Diana.

"You look nice," she said, her tone dripping sarcasm. She didn't even bother to speak Greek anymore.

"You are unhappy," said Diana.

"Of course I am unhappy!" Aresia nearly exploded. "You trapped me here!"

Diana took a deep breath, "You trapped yourself here."

"I did not!" she cried. "You think I wanted this?!"

Diana shook her head, "You intent has nothing to do with the results."

Aresia looked sullen and resentful, "What do you want?"

"I am leaving the Island," she said. "I have come to say goodbye."

"Goodbye," said Aresia, "and good riddance."

Diana came forth and knelt beside her friend.

"If I could," said Diana, "I would free you from this place."

Aresia glared at her, "Then why don't you?"

Diana frowned, "It isn't within my power."

Aresia huffed, "Such convenient falsehoods you hold! You, who are so wise, so strong, so capable, flounder and fail only when it suits you. Simply not knowing the answer does not mean there isn't one. Have you even searched?"

Diana came up short.

"I thought as much," said Aresia. "Go spin your webs elsewhere. I will have them none."

Diana took a deep breath.

"You're right," she said.

Aresia's head came up.

"I haven't looked," she said. "What I said before, about freeing you, was a lie; I probably could free you, if I decided to find a way, but it wouldn't serve you."

"'Wouldn't serve' me?" Aresia spat back.

"What would you have learned?" asked Diana. "You know only not to trust a selfish God, but have you learned why you did in the first pace? Do you know what lead you to the path that brought about this fate?"

"I do," said Aresia. "Men. They did this to me. If I ever get out of this place, I will destroy every last Gods cherished one of them."

Diana stood and shook her head.

"You are a victim," she said.

Aresia smiled, "I see that you finally see things my way."

Diana smiled unhappily, "I said you were a victim, not that you were victimized. There is a difference."

"Oh?" asked Aresia. "Enlighten me, Oh Wise Princess of the Amazons!"

Diana leaned down to Aresia, putting her face close and even with her sister's.

"You were victimized," she said. "You were mistreated by someone who said they would empower you. But, you are choosing to feel like a victim. And victims are blameless, having no responsibility over the harsh things that happen to them, and thus are justified in doing whatever they want in retribution, belying their responsibility even more."

"You think this is my fault?" Aresia hissed.

Diana shook her head, "No, but it was your choice. You are not blameless in all of this, and until your are willing to take responsibility for your failures and see yourself for who you really are, you deserve that chain."

Aresia looked as though she would kill Diana if she were able.

"And what am I?" she asked, her tone acid.

Diana smiled, "Afraid. A little misguided, but ultimately, in control of herself and capable of being happy, no matter what. You have people who love you, despite what you have done, and who always will. You can find peace here, if you try, if you want it. It is all up to you."

For a long moment, Aresia stared at her. She looked fragile, like she might sob at any moment. And then, she laughed.

"You deserve this chain," she gasped, almost manic in her laughter. "It should be you here, not me. Then you can tell me what happiness is."

Diana smiled, "Even should I take that chain, you will be imprisoned by your fear the rest of your life. I pray you find your peace, sister."

She kissed the top of Aresia head, too high for her to reach Diana as she tried to bite her, still held down by the weight of the God's chain.

"I hate you!" Aresia screamed.

Diana wept as she walked around the bend out of sight. The Oracle stayed by her side.

"She may never leave that chamber," she said to Diana.

"I know," said Diana, wiping her tears.

"Why do you cry?" she asked.

Diana smiled weakly, "I feel for all who cannot have peace. We all deserve to be happy, every one of us. It is those who rage violently, whom harm those around them, who need it the most."

The Oracle stopped a moment, and looked Diana in the face.

"You must understand," she said, "not all people believe the way you do."

"I understand," said Diana.

The Oracle shook her head, "You do not. You cannot, for you are not them. They live the way that they do because they know no better. It is easy to look upon those who have learned the lesson that you take for granted and think them foolish. It is harder still to simply love them and let them find their own path."

She put a hand to her chest over her heart.

"You are doing well, letting her learn from her mistakes," she said, smiling. "But it will get harder. You too have lessons yet to learn. Never forget that."

Carefully, she took the cloak from about her shoulders.

"Here," she said. "A token. May it keep you safe."

She swathed Diana, in the fine brown linen trimmed in gold. While wearing it, her weapons and dress were muted, less noticeable. With the hood up, she would be but a traveler, with no sign of her Godly accouterments, only her face revealed.

"Thank you," Diana smiled. "I will not forget you and your... wise... teachings."

She looked at the woman, wondering for the first time if she might be more than she seemed.

"Are you alright?" she asked.

Diana shook her head, "I am fine."

She knew better than to try to oust a Goddess, if that was what she was. They walked together, renewing their goodbyes as she passed, and Diana finally made her way to the beach where Steve and her mother waited. The Oracle took her leave and they three stood together in the shadow of the plane.

"Are you ready, Daughter?" asked Hippolyta.

"As ever, Mother," she answered, smiling.

"As your queen," Hippolyta said, "I have nothing but faith in you. But, as your mother, I must say that I will, perhaps, worry. A little."

Diana embraced her, "I love you."

"And, I you," the woman said. "You are my heart. Go with the grace of the Gods and Goddesses, and may your journey be fruitful."

"Peace, mother," Diana replied in return. "I shall see you again."

They embraced one last time. Diana leaped to the craft's seats, carrying Steve in one hand as she went, him bellowing the whole way.

"You could warn a guy!" he rebuked her. "It isn't like a have a second pair of shorts."

Diana shook her head, "I wouldn't let any harm come to you."

He rolled his eyes, "Tell that to my sense of self-preservation..."

They sat in the craft. Steve piloted and she sat in the co-pilot's seat. They strapped themselves in, and he closed the canopy.

"Ready?" he asked.

She gave one finally look to the Island she called home.

"I am," she said, her convictions firm.

The engines started, the craft ascending vertically off the beach. Then, with a rush, it disappeared behind them, and they were away.


	10. Chapter 10: The New World

Seeing the Island from the air was an amazing sight. Diana only go a lingering look before it seemed to vanish. Seeing the barrier between it and the rest of the world was insightful. There was something to it that it had in common with the craft's out layer, something similar in the cloaking technology. Perhaps, Diana thought, that was why the craft was able to pass through it in the first place.

"Our fuel is limited," said Steve. "With what we have left, I won't be able to put down in many places. Let's see..."

He looked over the monitor before him.

"Ferris Aircraft has a strip in Gotham," he said. "I will give them a shout when we are closer."

Diana nodded, "Alright."

She watched the rushing water below and the passing clouds.

"Truly," she said, "this is the way the Gods Themselves travel."

Steve chuckled, "Yeah, there is just something about it. I never could get over it."

He was quiet a long moment.

"This is normally when I would lay it on thick," he said. "Say something about how the sky is the only place I ever felt truly free, and then suggest that there was one other time."

"One other?" she asked.

He laughed, "Exactly, so that you would do that, ask. Then I would infer that it had to do with being spent on the breast of a beautiful woman, like you."

She laughed, "Why would you do that?"

He shrugged, "Because it works."

"Work how?" she asked.

"I'm a pilot," he said. "A not unattractive, charismatic pilot with this great man-erific voice. A pretty lady can appreciate that there might not ever be anything more between us but a nice night, and they often don't seem to care. It's a game, but one we both know and don't mind playing."

Diana shrugged, "Why won't there be anything more?"

Steve shook his head, "Relationships are hard here, Angel. This world can be painful, and at times we are willing to do just about anything to avoid potential pain. Sometimes a one night stand is a perfectly desirable thing."

Diana sighed, "I would think that love would be the most desirable thing."

Steve smirked.

"They are many out there who think such a thing doesn't exist," he said.

Diana's mouth fell open, "They doubt it's genuine?"

Steve looked at the small mirror mounted on the cockpit to see the back seat without needing to turn his head.

"They have never felt it," he said.

Diana thought about that. She tried to think what it would be like, living her entire life, not knowing or recognizing love. She felt a permeating grief unlike anything she had ever felt.

"That's terrible," she whispered.

"That's life," replied Steve.

Diana shook her head, "It doesn't have to be."

Then, with a swiftness Diana didn't expect, they came to the city.

She gasped, looking over it. Unlike the flashes and glimpses she got before, this was a clear and unhindered sight of this coastal city. It was massive, the building so high, she was reminded of the Halls of Olympus. She could see the roads, with the vehicles passing upon them. There were so many, more than she could have imagined, and this was but a single city.

"So many..." she said, "how could they not know love?"

Whether Steve heard her or not, he was busy. He radioed the tower and got a landing trajectory and clearance. Diana watched as he went through his routine, lining up the craft, adjusting the pitch, lowering the landing gear, and settling the craft down on the runway.

"Like butter," Steve said, and Diana wondered if he said this every time he landed.

They pulled off and over to a hanger, and Steve quickly popped the canopy and stepped out.

"Come on," he said, and Diana simply leaped to the ground, rather than sliding down the way Steve did.

"Or that," he said.

She immediately turned to the city skyline, not far off from where they stood.

"Let's go," she said, sounding excited.

"Go?" he asked. "We can't go. We have to stay with the plane."

They turned to see vehicles approaching, military types if Diana was starting to understand the designs.

"You stay," she said. "I will go."

"Wait!" said Steve. "You don't know that it is like out there. How will I find you?"

She smiled, "By looking, I would assume."

He shook his head, "It is a big, big city, Angel. Even someone like you doesn't stand out that much."

He looked at the approaching vehicles and sighed.

"Do you know what a phone is?" he said.

"Yes," she said, understand the word perfectly.

"Here is a number," he said, pulling out a pen and marking her skin, though her skin wouldn't mark.

"Just tell me it," she said. "I will remember."

He did, "Call me and tell me what intersection you are at, and I will find you."

She nodded, kissing his cheek and turning.

"Be careful!" he demanded, and she smiled as she set off at run that would leave even most sprinters winded inside of ten minutes.

Diana quickly found the path and learned how it worked, aided by the simple fact of being able to understand symbols and signs instantaneously. She watched as people crossed at crosswalks and cars stopped at lights, and was soon weary when she realized that not all people obeyed the guidelines of the road. She was most of the way across a street when a car suddenly turned, coming right at her, and while it wouldn't have slowed her down for long, she was more surprised than concerned when she had to move out of it's path with a few quick steps.

"Whoa," someone said, and she turned to find herself nearly in the arms of someone standing at the curb. They stood eye to eye and he looked surprised too. He stepped back, and though the motion was understated, it was none the less graceful and efficient.

He smiled, and it was something like the way Steve smiled, but there was something else there, a confidence that was beyond what Steve had, something that was born of more trials and more success, Diana thought. It was the relaxed smiled that Artemis would wear in glorious combat.

"I thought you might have needed a hand," he said, once there was space between them. "My mistake."

Diana considered him. His dress was nice, fitting him better than most she had seen. It shower off his proportions nicely, thin in the waist and broad in the shoulders. His straight dark hair was stylish and contrasted well with his gray blue eyes. He had an attractive face and moved well. Diana liked him almost instantly.

"Thank you," she said. "But I am very capable."

"Agreed," he said, saying nothing more. Diana smiled politely, and turned and walked on.

The building she saw where not nearly to her liking. The more impressive ones seemed to be secured, with guards in place and not open to the public. She wondered what might happen if she were to simply visit the top of one with a quick blessing from Hermes or a prayer to Hera and a simple leap, but she decided against it. She wanted to see the spectacle of this world, not be the spectacle. She soon found that the city was so barren, that life was rampant here, but it was all human life and that which could sustain itself off of human life. There so very little plants here, and only small birds and the occasional rodent. She saw a few strange animals, but they, along with the few horses she saw, were mostly in the service of others.

Finally, when she thought all hope was lost, she found a park. It was a simple place with lots of green, a place of play and casual joy. Diana stood, wide-eyed at the children. She understood the notion, had read all there was to read on the shores of Themyscira, but it was so hollow and lifeless compared to the truth of them, running about, occasionally crying. She saw what must be a new mother, pushing a stroller with a tiny thing in it, so pink and soft and new, if made something in Diana flutter, something springing to life in her that she had never felt before.

"You want to hold her?" the mother asked, apparently recognizing the look in Diana eyes.

"May I?" she said, feeling almost teary all of a sudden.

"Sure," she said, stopping and engaging the wheel locks. She lifted the child with a practiced easy and turned to show Diana how, setting her carefully in her arms, mirroring how to hold the little baby. She blinked at Diana, her brilliant green eyes suddenly wide, taking in this new face above her, and she suddenly cued happily, smiling her toothless smile at Diana. It was the most amazing sight Diana had ever beheld.

"She likes you," said the mother. Something welled up in Diana, a new set of sensations and feelings, something old and similar yet entirely new and never accessed, and she found herself gently bouncing the child who squealed happily. One of her fingers came forth and the child grasped it with a strength Diana wouldn't have thought possible of those tiny hands.

"Hera," she whispered, "bless this child. Grace her with your strength and watch over her, for all the days of her life."

The baby yawned and both women awed over her.

"You certainly have the magic touch," said the mother. "Usually isn't comfortable enough to get sleepy in anyone's arms by mine. Not even my husband's. Do you have any kids?"

"No," Diana said. "I come from an Island where I am the youngest who lives there, and there are no men welcome there."

The mother smirked, "Sounds nice, if unsustainable."

She seemed to consider, "But I don't think I could give up my husband."

Diana took her eyes from the baby for the first time.

"You love him?" she asked.

"Of course," said the mother. "He has given me a wonderful home and three beautiful children. How could I not?"

Diana took a deep breath and smiled, though inside, she was wilting. She understood what Steve meant. Love was without excuse or justification, a choice we made to care about another, without any thought of what they might give us in return. This woman didn't need any reason to love her husband but that she could, not needing any other reason. Her justifications sounded practiced, as though she were trying to convenience herself as well as others. Diana wanted to open her eyes, to show her that she was wrong and what happiness and love really were, but she was starting to understand what The Oracle meant.

"That is wonderful," she said smiling, placing a supportive hand on the mother's shoulder. She carefully handed the child back to her. Smiling, Diana wished her a lovely day and walked on.

She found herself walking into the park central area, where children played upon implements for that expressed purpose. She was standing to one side, watching with a simple, shared joyed at their enthusiasm, when she heard a bell beside her and turned. There was a man, pushing some kind of cart, with pastel colors and pictures on the side of some dessert confection that Diana understood but couldn't really comprehend.

"What is that?" she asked. "Ice cream?"

"Yeah," he said. "Do you want one?"

She smiled, "Yes, thank you."

He pulled out a cone and quickly, filled it with a practiced flourish.

"Here," he said, handing it over. "That'll be two fifty."

Diana froze, "Currency. Oh no. I am so sorry. I don't have any money."

She was suddenly beside herself, "I am a foreigner here. Surely, there must be something I can do."

"Hey," he said, holding up a hand, "hey, look."

He looked about, making sure that no one was overhearing.

"Don't worry about it," he said. "How about this; just stay here while you eat it. That should be enough to draw a crowd."

He sort of laughed at his own words and Diana smiled, a bit nervously, and took a small bite. The cold surprised her, but nearly so much as the taste.

"This is wonderful!" she exclaimed, trying to find a way to eat it slightly faster without the discomfort of the cold getting unpleasant.

"Thank you," he said beaming. "Haven't you ever had ice cream before?"

"No," she said, shaking her head, "you made this?"

"Actually, yes," he said, beaming all the more, "homemade."

"Everyone should have your ice cream," she said, and before he realized what she was doing, she turned to the playing children and cried, "Children! Come! You should all try this amazing ice cream."

"Oh no!" he said, sounding horrified. The kids ran, suddenly screaming and running towards them. Diana was not put out by their cries or their noise, not noticing even the withering glares the parents and caretakers were sending her way.

"They aren't going to have money either," he whispered to her. "And their parents don't like to buy them ice cream as it is. I have to be delicate here if I want to sell anything."

"Why?" she asked. "Surely there is no harm in this."

"Parents don't like other people making decisions for their kids," he said. "They don't want their kids pestering them for ice cream ever chance they get."

Diana looked confused, "Why not just say no then?"

He laughed, "You have never had a child before, have you?"

"No," she said.

"They never listen," he said.

Diana turned, seeing that a number of parents were now nearly arguing with the children in hushed whispers, some dragging them away, and she didn't understand.

"Children," she cried again, and her voice cut through all the complaints and even the parents stopped and looked to her.

She walked carefully over to the bulk of them, kneeling to their eye, the children gather closer to her as she did.

"I made a mistake," she said quietly. "I am new to this city, this place, and I didn't understand that things might be different here. May I talk to you and ask you some questions so that I can understand better?"

Most of the children and some of the parents nodded, and there was a mass "yes" that came from them.

"Why can't you have ice cream?" she asked.

"Because too much will make you fat!" cried a little boy near the front. More than a few people laughed.

Diana smiled, "Good. What else?"

A little girl near the front said, "Mommy doesn't like it when I ask for stuff too much."

It was a quiet, slightly scared admission, and Diana reached out, offer her embrace to the little girl. The child walked to her, sitting on her knee as Diana place and hand on her further shoulder, turning her so that though they spoke to each other, the group was included in their conversation.

"Why is that?" she asked the child.

The child's face puckered a little.

"I bother her..." she said.

Diana brushed her cheek.

"How does that make you feel?" she asked.

"Not good," said the child.

Diana hugged her, "It makes you feel unloved."

"Yeah," said the child, tears in eyes.

Diana held the little girl, watching her, her face open and caring, no shame in her, no inconvenience, no bother.

"Do you know why your mother is bothered?" she asked the little girl.

The girl looked interested, "No."

Diana used the hem of her cloak to dry her eyes.

"She's scared," she said. "Look at you. Look how lovely you are. You were so very brave, coming up here, talking about what scared you, before all these people. There is no way a mother couldn't be proud of you, save one thing; she is afraid. Do you all know what happens when we are afraid?"

"We get mad," said one of the older girls.

"We are stupid," said a boy.

"We scream!" said the earlier little boy.

Diana smiled, "All true! We do whatever we can to feel less fear. We act to make the pain and fear less, and we can't care about those around us, because we are afraid."

She looked to the parents, "Why don't you want to give your children ice cream?"

They were suddenly terrified, looking to one another, and in that, Diana could see.

She turned to the little girl, "Which is your mother?"

She pointed, and Diana looked. The woman was near the back, looking sad, her arms wrapped around herself in a weird sort of way, as though holding herself together. Diana held out her free hand, and the woman hesitated only a moment, then came forward. At length, she took Diana's hand, who drew her down to kneel beside her.

"Why don't you want your daughter to have ice cream?" she asked.

"Because I am scared," said the mother, looking fragile.

"Of?" asked Diana.

"I don't know," she said. Diana would not move on, yet she give her the time and the space to find her answer.

"I am scared that she will keep wanting ice cream," she said. "I am scared that the other parents will judge me, will think I am a bad parent if I give my daughter what she wants all the time."

Diana nodded, "Good. There is just a bit more."

The mother swallowed, "I am scared that I will have to say no to my child. And if I tell her no, she won't love me."

Diana beamed, "Yes."

The mother cried on Diana's shoulder, her arms around mother and daughter. The little girl looked wonderingly at her mother.

"Fear gets in the way," said Diana. "And there is only one solution to fear. Do you know what it is?"

Half the children said it at once, "Love!"

Diana grinned, "Of course."

She turned to the mother, "You have one job as a parent; to love and teach your daughter. Teach, but mostly to love. To teach our children, they need to hear no. Not from bother or out of fear, but a genuine no, because the world will not give them everything they want."

She turned to the daughter, "You have one job as a child; to learn. Make mistakes, get it wrong, keep trying, and figure it out. Grow. Let go of fear. Be yourself better than you were yesterday."

The child smiled. She looked at her mother, "Can I have some ice cream?"

The mother looked at Diana, "Do I have to say no?"

Diana laughed, "Do you want to say no?"

"No," said the mother, smiling sheepishly through her tears.

"Then no!" smiled Diana.

"Yes," said the mother, and the children cheered.

After that, there was nothing for it. The children lined up at the ice cream cart, and parent sighed and went for wallets and purses.

"It's on me," said a voice somewhat behind Diana and she turned to see the man from before, the well dressed man on the curb. The keeper of the ice cream looked awed himself.

"Uh," he stammered, "sure thing, Mr. Wayne."

The parents were at a lose, and soon, each if their children had their ice cream and were eating it beside them, talking in a way that Diana had yet seen them interact. There was far less fear here.

"That was amazing," said the keeper, handing her another cone, "here. I am about to run out. You have certainly earned a couple of cones."

"I didn't do it for the ice cream," she said, smiling that them. One of the children grinned back and waved. She waved too.

"I'll have one as well," said Wayne, seemingly amused at have been all but forgotten.

"Of course," said the keeper, making him up one as well.

He took his cone and stood at Diana's side, "Would you care to have a seat?"

Diana smiled, "Yes."

They sat, eating their ice cream, watching the children.

"Who are you?" he finally asked, after a long moment.

She swallowed the bit of ice cream that she had been savoring.

"I am Diana of Themyscira," she said carefully. "Daughter of Zeus, Hera, and Hippolyta, Princess and Ambassador of the Amazons."

He looked at her.

"I am Bruce Wayne of Gotham," he said, his cadence matching hers perfectly. "Son of Thomas and Martha Wayne, Chairman of Wayne Enterprises and City Benefactor."

She nodded, "Why did you follow me today?"

He smiled, "I was curious. You caught my attention."

She tasted more ice cream.

"What you did for these children," he said, "and their parents, was amazing."

She took a deep breath, "It is hard to watch fear go on in this world and do nothing about it."

He nodded, as though completely understanding.

"You did more in a few minutes and without a dollar to your name than I could in a week with all my funds behind me," he said.

She grinned, "I am sure you help in other ways."

He laughed, "Truly, you are an ambassador."

She finished her ice cream.

"May I borrow your phone?" she asked.

He pulled it out, unlocked it, and opened the app for her to dial before handing it over. She dialed and put the phone to her ear when she heard the quiet ringing.

"Diana?" asked Steve. "Where are you?"

She looked around, "A park."

"Robinson Park," added Bruce.

"Robinson Park," Diana repeated.

"Good," he said. "Okay, good. I will be there in like fifteen to twenty minutes. Don't leave."

"Alright," she said. "I will be here."

She handed the phone back and Bruce hung up before tucking it away.

"Your ride?" he asked.

"Yes," she said.

He nodded, "Will I see you again?"

She looked at him, "Do you want to?"

He snorted, "I often find that what I want has little to do with how the world is. I simply do the best I can see what happens."

She looked sideways at him, "You didn't answer my question."

His expression turned intrigued, "Yes, I would like to see you again."

She nodded, "I think I would like that too."

He took a thin rectangle of paper from his pocket.

"This is my card," he said, taking out a pen and writing on the back, "and this is my personal number."

She looked down at herself, "I have no pockets."

He smiled, "Oh. Well, if you ever need to get a hold of me, go there."

He pointed to a tower just across a river from them. It looked to be the tallest building in the city.

"Don't ask for me, though," he said, pulling out his phone and typing something in. "Ask for Lucius Fox and give your name. He will get in contact with me."

At Diana's question look, he smiled, "He's there a lot more often than I am."

She nodded, "Why are you doing this?"

He sobered, his expression becoming serious.

"I know people," he said, his voice taking on a new tone, something purposeful and hard, sending a shiver up Diana's back.

"You," he went on, pausing just noticeably, "are a good person. I don't know many of them. I think we might help each other out, someday. It is important that we keep avenues of communication open."

She nodded, "How will you get in contact with me?"

He smiled, though there was a note of deviousness to the expression that Diana found almost appealing, "I have a number you just used. I can work with less."

Diana found she liked Bruce for some reason she couldn't quite put her finger on. He was smart and resourceful, could think on his feet, was capable of seeing her worth and follow her through the streets of a city without her detecting it. And, what was more, he didn't try to assert his will onto her at all. He offered so very little of himself, even when she asked, and she found that she wanted to know more.

There was the squeak of tires, and suddenly there were almost a half dozen black vehicles pulling up, surrounding the park.

Bruce stood, ice cream forgotten, his finger at his ear.

"Alfred," he whispered in a way that she was certain he though she couldn't hear. She could just make out the buzzing reply, realizing he had something in his ear that allowed him to communicate.

"Perfect," he said in response, his tone dripping in sarcasm. "Ping the GCPD, if you can. I'll see what I can do on my end."

Men got out of the vehicles, all dressed in suits similar to what Steve had worn, but black and tight-fitting, each with a weapon or more. Many came forward, hustling parents and children out of the park, clearing them from the outside in towards Diana. She glared at them.

"They're scaring the children," she said. "They are so garish!"

Bruce sighed, "They are trying to impress upon you that they are in the right. They want everyone out of the way so that if you react badly, no innocents will be hurt. If you ask me, the show is for them, not for you."

Finally, a group of five men came forward, each armed with powerful looking weapons. Though held ready, the weapons remained pointed down.

"Diana?" asked the point man. "I am Captain Rick Flag. Someone would like a word with you."

He slid his weapon behind his back, the motion fluid and practiced. Still at his side, he drew his hand down to pull a drawstring zip down, pulling out a thin device of some kind. He tapped it in several places, and flipped it around. There was a woman looking back, as though a reflection of Diana in a mirror. She was dark of skin, her hair cropped close to her head.

"I am Amanda Waller," she said. "Head of the Meta-human Relations Committee of the United States government."

"I am Diana of Themyscira," she said. "Princess of the Amazons, here on a diplomatic mission of peace."

"That remains to be seen," said Waller. "As it is, you have entered the United States illegally. I am afraid that you are going to have to come with us."

"Now, just a moment here," said Bruce, sounding different than he had before. Diana quickly hid her surprise has he seemed to slip on a mask, one that was meant to distract and hide one's true power and ability. She found she liked him all the more.

"You don't need to arrest her," he said. "Besides, I am pretty sure that if she didn't want to go with you, there would be little you could do to stop her."

"Stay out of this, rich boy," she said. "I know what you get up to at night."

Bruce only smiled, "If you have a problem with it, I am sure I could make a phone call and smooth this all out. I am sure that I could get General Lane on the line. I am a good friend of his daughter's fiance."

Waller scowled, "This isn't any of his business."

Bruce nodded, "You're right. I just want to make sure that when you offer a hand to shake, it is a fair one."

Waller looked at him and looked back.

"Would you be willing to have a discussion with us about your intentions and your abilities?" she said. "We are willing to listen, but by inviting you into our country, we have to be responsible for you."

"Yes," said Diana, "I can agree to that."

"Good," said Waller. "The SUV will take you to us so we can talk. See you soon."

Her imagine vanished. Flag slipped the device back in his pack and took up his weapon again. They fanned out, turning their back to them and looking about, giving Bruce and Diana space, but could just as easily be defending everyone else from them as defending them.

"You didn't need to do that," said Diana.

"Do what?" asked Bruce. "Stop them from making a mistake and forcing your hand? That would have been messy."

She looked at him, "How do you know that?"

Bruce tilted his head back the way she had come when entering the park.

"You move faster than an ordinary woman can," he said. "It follows that if you can handle that kind of speed, you can take a lot and have the muscle to back it up. That alone would make you a formidable foe, but you move with a warrior's grace and you were completely unfazed by a full assault team here to fight you, if necessary."

She looked at the men with their new weapons and realized he was right.

"I am sure some people might find the prospect of fighting them daunting," she said charitably, and Bruce chuckled.

"You might say that," he said. "They may have back up weapons that would be much harder to contend with. As such, I thought it would be best not to fight if at all possible, and this was the best way I knew how."

Diana nodded, "You wisdom is sound. Thank you, Bruce."

He looked almost taken aback by her sincerity.

"You're welcome," he said, a bit gruffly.

She stood and offered a hand. He did as well, but as she took his forearm in hers and he did the same, she was surprised. He was more muscular than she would have guessed, his size notwithstanding. He didn't move the way she would have expected him to move for someone who worked as hard as him, and she realized as she met his eye that he was holding back again and she had missed it. She shook her head.

"I do hope we meet again, Bruce," she said.

He smiled, "I am sure we will, Diana, Princess of Themyscira."

She said goodbye, realizing she had said it in her language, only to be surprised that he returned the parting words without skipping a beat. She began walking away, looking over her shoulder in awe, when she heard a strange sound, a high and short screech of some kind. She turned to find a car at the curb, angled strangely, and Steve getting out of it.

"Diana!" he called, making a path to her, only to have the path blocked by two men with guns.

"Let him pass," said Diana and the men stayed where they were.

"Get out of my way," said Steve. "She's with me, alright?"

Diana turned to Flag.

"Let him pass," she said. "If you want my cooperation, he comes with me."

Flag sighed and put a finger to his ear.

"Orders?" he asked. He listened.

"Let him pass," he said, and Steve brushed by them, not waiting for them to get completely out of his way.

"That's what I thought," said Steve, coming to her side.

"Are you alright, Ange-" he stopped, looking over her shoulder. Bruce simply smiled and stood where he was.

"Of course," he said. "You're in Gotham for less than three hours, and already you have a billionaire playboy trying to pick you up."

Diana gave him a look, "I don't recognize that tone. Is that jealousy?"

"What?" barked Steve. "Me? Jealous!? Of him?!"

"The lady doth protest too much, methinks," Bruce murmured, so low Diana was sure that Steve didn't hear, given his lack of response. Diana gave Bruce a smile that encouraged Bruce to be nice. Steve caught the look.

"Hey," he said. "What was that?! I'm not threatened by him! He needs to keep his money grubbing mitts to himself!"

Bruce said no more, just waiting and watching. Under the encouragement of the men with the guns, they started moving again.

"Why are you so upset?" asked Diana. "I made a friend."

"Oh," said Steve, "that's just what he wants you to think. Next thing you know, you're sipping fancy champagne while sunbathing topless on his fancy yacht on your way to his fancy private island in the Caribbean."

Diana raised an eyebrow, "And you're sure you aren't jealous? That sounds a lot like being jealous."

"You're too good for him!" said Steve.

Diana stopped. She grabbed his arm, and turned him. He had no choice. She looked him dead in the eyes.

"Whether or not I am," she said calmly, clearly, "is my business. I choose who I associate with and how. I don't care if you like it or not. No one makes my decisions for me."

"I think I am starting to like her," said one of the men in black.

"Can it, Simmons," said Flag.

Diana looked from the SUV to Steve car.

"I will ride with Steve," she said.

"You should ride with us, ma'am," said Flag.

Diana just looked at him, and he sighed.

"Okay," he said. "Okay. We will guide you."

He turned to Steve.

"We are going to a classified satellite location," he said. "You are cleared to know where it is Lieutenant, but not to repeat anything that happens there or where it is."

He turned to Diana, "We are allowing you access as a point of faith."

Diana nodded, "I understand."

They got in the car. The soldiers piled into their vehicles and they drove.

It was some time before they finally left the city, heading south towards Coast City. They were not quite back into the city when they pulled into an office park with a rather large parking structure. They entered, but turn left, towards nothing, only to move down a ramp that could be raised to hide the entrance down. They all parked in the underground structure, and the men with guns lead them towards a secured entry way.

"Stand there," said a tech, having them each stand on a plate in the floor in turn. "Arms out."

A laser scanned them all the way around, Diana having to take off her cloak. The soldiers did a double take when they saw her weapons.

"You'll have to leave those weapons here," said a security guard.

"No," said Diana.

"You don't understand," said the guard, "They aren't going into the facility."

Diana shrugged, "Then I'm not either."

The guard frowned, "You are."

She gave him an even, intent look, and his eyes flicked to the sword.

"Let her in," said a voice from an overhead speaker, sounding like Waller. "As she is."

The guard looked miffed, but complied.

They walked down a short hallway, Diana and Steve walking in first, apace from each other. The hall monitored their gate and their motion and record it for future use.

Once in, they followed corridors down to what looked like a conference room. They walked in, a guard was posted at the door, and they found themselves more or less alone.

"What is this?" asked Diana.

"Teleconferencing," said a voice, and the last three chairs at the far end of the table slid into the floor, replaced by three clear screens. As soon as they were in place, a bluish, semi-translucent image of three people appeared on each. One was Waller. To the right was an older man wearing neat fatigues and salt and pepper hair. To her left was a man in a lab coat, bald with a red beard.

"General," said Steve, nodding respectfully.

The General looked back and forth between the two.

"I am General Sam Lane," he said. "And this is Dr. Megala. I believe you already know Ms. Waller."

"What is this about, sir?" asked Steve, and this time, the General gave him a stern look and he backed down.

"We are here to talk," said Amanda Waller. "We want to know why you are here and what your intentions are."

Diana nodded, "Your pilot crashed landed on our Island-"

"Which is where, exactly?" asked The General.

Steve pulled out a small notebook from a pocket and read off a list of coordinates.

"We were asking her," said Waller.

"With all do respect, Ms. Waller," said Steve. "She couldn't have given you that specific of an answer."

They looked at him and back to Diana.

"Where I come from," she said, "we have no need to plot things on your globe. I am the first to have left the Island in quite some time."

"How long?" asked The General."

Steve looked to her.

She shrugged, "I do not know precisely. We did not make the passage of time as strictly as you do. It was sometime around 600 BC, give or take a couple of centuries."

"None of your people have left your Island in that long?" asked Megala.

"Other than me and Steve, no," she said. "Not including my trip to the Overworld Sanctum or Mount Olympus, but I technically didn't believe that I left the Island during both of those trips."

They stared at her for several moments.

"Lady and Gentlemen," said Steve. "Given what I have witnessed on the Island, I have to say that I am convinced in some small part that what we considered Greek Mythology might be closer to Greek history than the modern world might have thought."

"When you say Mount Olympus," said Waller, "you mean..."

"The home of my mother and father," Diana said, "The Goddess Hera and The Almighty Zeus."

"You're a god?" asked Megala.

"I would be a Goddess," said Diana, "but no. My mother Hippolyta was mortal, though she did not actually birth me. I was created of blood, sand, and prayer."

The three at the far end of the table looked dubiously at each other.

"Have you any proof of this?" asked The General.

Diana shrugged, "I am not sure."

Megala looked off screen.

"That's weird," he said.

"What is?" asked Waller.

"I am looking at the scans we got of gate," he said.

"And?" asked the General.

"She is reading as having a body temperature of twenty one degrees centigrade," he said.

They all looked at her.

"She's colder than the room she's in?" asked The General.

Steve, reaching over, put a hand on Diana's bare shoulder.

"She feels body temperature to me," he said.

Megala nodded, "There is something odd going on here. She might not be as crazy as she sounds."

Diana looked at Steve, "I sound insane?"

He smiled at her, "People here who talk like you are either insincere or have below average faculties."

Diana considered, "What do you need me to do to show you that I am sincere?"

They looked among each other, "Some tests might be good."

"Wait a moment," said Steve. "You aren't turning her into a lab rat."

Diana caught his arm, "No, they aren't."

She looked back to them, "Understand, I will allow only such test as I think are fair."

"That's reasonable," said Megala, looking at the other two who nodded.

"We would like a few things," he said, "Tissue and hair sample, blood sample, some basic imagine, nothing invasive."

"Alright," said Diana. "I can agree to that."

"We would ask that you stay in our facility," said Waller. "Just until we can verify you aren't a risk to our people."

"So long as Steve stays with me," she said.

"And we can come and go as agreed," he said. "We won't be a prisoners here."

They looked at each other.

"Agreed," said Waller. "But we reserve the right to revisit this, should anything untoward happens."

"Done," said Diana, before Steve could complain.

"Good," said The General. "We will set up the tests for tomorrow. Until then, we will show you to your quarters."


	11. Chapter 11: A Night Out

The quarters were amenable, at least to Diana. Steve found them rather small and cramped.

"I'm used to Air Force racks," he said, "and they are positively luxurious compared to this."

Diana shook her head, tucking away her cloak, "There is enough space here for everything I need."

Steve sighed, "So, now what?"

She looked at him, "What do you mean?"

He smiled, "We have the whole night ahead of us. What would you like to do?"

She looked about, "I would like to go outside."

He considered, "You really don't have much indoors where you are from, do you?"

She nodded, "I would like very much to get out of here. I miss air on my skin."

He reddened a bit, "That might be harder here. We tend to keep skin to a minimum here."

Diana recalled the women she had seen that day.

"Not so much, though," she said.

He nodded, "True, but not many people wear what you are wearing. Perhaps, would you like to go shopping?"

She considered, "Shopping for what?"

"Our clothing," he said. "I mean, I am sure we can find something you would like. Then maybe get some dinner, maybe some drinks. A night on the town."

Diana considered, reflecting on what Hera whispered of the meaning behind his words.

"You are suggesting that we go on a date?" she asked.

Steve looked almost shocked, "I- No, what?! What gave you that-"

She snorted, "I am willing to go shopping with you and to have dinner with drinks."

He sighed, "So I am guess sex is off the table."

She looked sideways at him as she checked her boots.

"I said that it was," she said, adding without heat or shaming, "How often do you need to be reminded?"

"Alright," he said, jamming his hands in his pockets with only nominal dejectedness, "Alright. You let me know if you change your mind."

She smiled, "I will be sure to let you know."

They walked out, and Diana got more looks in her armor and with her weapons exposed.

"Oh," Steve said, "um, that might be a problem."

"What?" asked Diana.

"Those sorts of weapons are illegal here," he said. "Like, we will get arrested and be imprisoned if we carry them casually."

She considered, finally saying, "Alright."

Turning, she looked about, and found a young woman. She appeared to be an analyst of some kind, wearing a uniform, but far from the usual soldiers doing guard duty.

"You there," Diana called, and the woman jumped a bit.

"Me?" she asked, sounding unsure.

Diana smiled.

"I have a task for you," she entoned, sounding as sure as the woman sounded unsure. "Should you accept it."

"Okay," she replied.

"These," she said taking up the sword and shield, "were entrusted to me by the Gods. They are important to my purpose and mission, here and now. I cannot carry them plainly while I walk the streets and have no immediate need of them. Do you vow to keep them and keep them safe."

She passed them over to the young woman who looked awed. At first she held them as though they were objects she had never beheld before. Then, with an almost practiced ease, she slid the shield to her back and easily clipped the sword to her left hip.

"It would be my honor," she said with a degree of confidence that surprised Steve.

"Thank you," said Diana.

She turned to Steve and the other woman walked away, skittering one of the soldiers to get out of her way as she marched to whatever her destination was before they had stopped her.

Diana and Steve made it most of the way to the garage before they were stopped.

"You are leaving?" asked a guard.

"Just for some shopping and some food," Steve said. "It isn't like she can walk around in armor all the time."

The guard's eyes dropped to Diana's legs and she smiled.

"I see your point," she said, her eyes still lingering on Diana. "We have placed a tracker on your car. Don't remove it or you will be unable to get back into the garage and will be in breach of your agreement."

"We wouldn't want that," said Steve, his tone with just the barest hint of flirtation.

She gave him a look, "If you aren't back or haven't checked in by dawn, we will be sending another team after you. This one won't be so nice."

Diana nodded, "We understand. Thank you for your candor."

The guard looked almost shy at having Diana eyes so intently on her.

"Enjoy your evening," the guard shot back at them once they were almost out the door, and when Diana smiled, she looked away so quickly, nearly clipped herself on a column.

"She's nice," said Diana, and Steve snorted, "Yeah."

They slipped into Steve's car and quickly left the way they had come. Diana wasn't sure, but the fact that they went into Coast City instead of Gotham might have had something to do with the so-called billionaire playboy who resided there.

They found a shopping district and promptly parked, Steve taking directions from his phone almost the entire time. Diana realized that he was using the technology because he had never been there either. In this world, they used their devices to feel at home and able to get around in any city, even ones they had never been to before. She could see the value of this, but also could tell that Steve was so intent on what he was doing, it was hard for him to appreciate the lights of the city, the people walking by in their bright and often complex fashions, the colorful shops and their displays of everything they had to tempt you in. Maybe there was a happy medium between the two, but Diana was as much at a loss to understand how as she would have been at understanding anything else going on in this world without the aid of Hera.

Finally they stopped at a clothing boutique, and Diana quickly understood what Steve meant about her standing out in what she wore. Everyone seemed to gawk at her, some even stopping to stare. It was a strange feeling to be considered so different, and Diana breathed the feeling in, promptly letting it go. She could feel how easy it would be to feel crushed under the weight of such differences. Instead, she smiled, letting the love she knew she had from those who cared for her wash away the feeling. The people around her simply didn't understand. It wasn't up to her how they behaved.

They walked into the boutique, and Diana was taken with how it was designed, all in slate colors with artificial granite work, letting the clothing stand out against the muted backdrop. A man came forward, his hair short and styled, wearing a vest over a pressed shirt and matching pants that went with the gray interior.

"Oh my," he said, coming up short when he looked at Diana. "Honey, what are you wearing?"

Diana smiled, "I do seem to be creating quite a stir."

"I'll say," he said, and promptly walked around her, appraising her in a way that Diana found she didn't mind terribly much.

"This isn't a costume," he said, his hand coming up to touch the metal near the tip of her sternum. "It is fine work, to be sure. Where did you get it?"

She shrugged, "A gift from my mother."

He smiled, "Classy."

Steve stepped in, "We were hoping to get her into something a little less..."

"Combative," the clerk finished, nodding in agreement.

"Something that wouldn't stand out so much," Diana added.

The clerk smiled, "Oh honey, we aren't in the business of blending in."

Diana frowned, "What do you mean?"

Steve and the clerk shared a glance.

"She is from out of town," Steve said. "Her ways are... a bit old-fashioned."

The clerk glanced a long moment at him, and Steve sighed.

"She is an Amazon," he said, "who has been living on an Island of only women for the past twenty five hundred years, give or take. She doesn't know anything about fashion at all."

The clerks eyes went wide, looking from him to her and back again.

"She's a blank slate?" he asked.

Diana considered the term, "Not entirely. I am a big believer in function."

He considered that, "How do you feel about modesty?"

Steve laughed, "She would find the changing rooms a waste of time."

The clerk looked impressed. He looked her up and down again, paying close attention to her measurements.

"Come along," he said, all business.

He brought them to an area with six different full-sized mirrors interspersed with doors to changing rooms. He left them there and then returned with a few armfuls of clothes, quickly sorting a few things out.

"Here," he said, holding out two leather items. "Keep the top and try these on. I'll be back with shoes."

Diana exchanged a look with Steve, who nodded towards the changing room with a smirk. She smiled and went in. It took a few moments to understand how zippers worked and to get a feel for how the new sorts of buttons fitted through their loops, but she was soon able to lose her boots and skirt and replace them with the leather pants that was given to her. The pants were snug but with just enough give that they didn't prevent her a usual range of motion. She would be a little hesitant to do a full vertical kick, but it wasn't as though that was a usual necessity. The other piece of clothing was a short leather jacket that mostly matched the pants. It was a half jacket that came just to her ribs, the sleeves still showing off her bracers, while her belt fitted nicely over the hem of the pants. She stepped out once dressed, finding the clerk standing there with a pair of leather boots for her to fit into. She slid her feet into them, with just a bit of a heel and some light studs, as was the pants and jacket.

"Flip your collar up, dear," said the clerk and Diana did, looking in the mirror.

Diana was very different. She looked sort of dangerous with all the dark colors, feeling the protection of armor but also liking how much the outfit shows off her curves. It broadened her shoulders, making her look and feel strong, and the little bit of height the boots gave her made her feel boldly regal. She liked how much these little changes made her feel different, shifting her mood and showing her alternative aspects of herself, all while still remaining who she was.

"I like it," she said with a smile. "How about something a little more... daring?"

The clerk smiled, "You are singing my tune. Let's see..."

The next item was a tan, high-waisted split pencil skirt with a black, low cut blouse with shoulder ruffles. The material of the top was so thin, the clerk laughed at just how revealing it was and Steve turned at little pink.

"Underwear, hon," said the clerk. "Not something I am used to giving a tutorial on, but that's okay. Lingerie is another thing entirely, but we will get there later. First things first."

Steve was quickly relegated to sitting and keeping his mouth shut as the Clerk handed different times over the changing room door for her to try. Diana found the whole thing to be a bit tiresome, but some of the garments felt nice and she found she had a fondness of soft, sliding cloth. The feel of something often became the most important factor, as she came to grips with the notion that most of the clothing she was trying on were not something she had ever experienced and thus had no reference. She knew all their names and with a little instruction could put them on and take them off, but she had no meaning to them, no experience.

"What is it?" asked the Clerk as she settled on three bras, a white, a black, and a flesh tone, and several sets of panties in various styles, ready to move on to wearing them under different garments.

"I am not from here," she said. "I understand, but I have no… context for any of this."

The clerk frowned, "I get what you mean. I guess we'll just have to find you some."

He went back to a rack.

"What are you planning on doing in these clothes?" he asked.

Steve opened his mouth and was promptly shushed again.

Diana considered, "I want to see the world."

"Good," he said, and he promptly put something together.

She stepped out, wearing something simple, a white cotton v-neck t-shirt over a part of artfully ripped jeans, a black sleeveless cardigan rounding out the look with a dark red knit beanie hat.

"What do you think?" he asked, standing her before a mirror.

She smiled as she looked, "I like how the colors play against each other. Black with white, blue with red, light with dark."

"The bracelets play nicely in there too," he commented. "I might have something else if you wanted to change those up a bit, or do they pretty much need to stay on?"

Diana smiled, "They need to stay on."

He nodded, "You do you, hon. We can absolutely work them in."

It wasn't long before Diana started to understand. She enjoyed layers, bright colors, but also exposed skin, clothing that felt binding in places and loose in others. She enjoyed clothing that draped and scarfs. She wasn't the biggest fan of socks and bras, but understood their purpose. She rather liked athleisure and long coats, but while she found lingerie and swimwear reductive, she decided on a bright red bikini that she felt comfortable in.

By the time they had gotten around to jewelry and shoes, twilight had fallen and it was rapidly approaching night. Steve couldn't decide if he was more bored by the inactivity or enjoyed watching Diana growing in confidence and looking sexy in the clothes he was used to seeing women in. Finally, she stepped out of the changing room, wearing a black cocktail dress. It was cut tastefully high across the bust, making up for the fact that it was strapless. It was fitted in the bodice, falling gracefully off her hip and down in a skirt that was tight enough to still allow her to walk comfortably but she was unlikely to be doing high kicks any time soon, not unless she wanted that slit that ended just above her knee to tear higher. Her bracers complimented the rich black fabric, along with her golden cord, which she had looped and slung about her waist and neck, coming together in front while the ends were knotted loosely at her hip.

"Come with me," said the clerk, tapping away at a cellphone. They went upstairs, surprising Steve to find a full on Salon.

"Ramon agreed to work late," said the clerk. "He won't want to miss this."

Another man came down, dressed in a tight black mesh T-shirt and fitted navy blue vinyl pants. His hair was brown and nearly shaved on the sides, the top long and royal blue, styled with silver hair wax. His pale eyes went wide in his round face upon seeing Diana, his smile huge.

"Wow," he said. "My oh my, what have we here?!"

Steve looked away, looking a bit uncomfortable and a tad jealous as Ramon came forth and kissed her hand, something she had never experienced before.

"Well," he said, looking at her hair. "I can see where you might need my help. You haven't had a decent haircut since at least the cut before your last one, but you have beautiful hair. How do you treat it?"

"Well," said Diana, unsure.

He laughed, "I'll say. Great body and volume, no split ends or damage of any kind. Lovely shine and strong for being so long. I can't see any shorter strands at all."

Diana considered, "My hair doesn't break."

Ramon looked confused.

"She's an Amazon," said Steve.

"Yeah, she is," said Ramon.

"No, really," said Steve. "Like the thousands-of-years-separated-from-the-world-living-on-a mystical-island sort of Amazon."

Diana turned to Steve, "I can speak for myself."

Steve's eyebrows went up, "Sorry."

Ramon looked at Steve then looked at her.

"Seriously?" he asked.

Diana smiled, "Steve."

"Yeah?" he asked.

"Stand on one leg," she said, and he did.

"Held steady," she said, and easily knelt and lifted him by his foot one handed, keeping his balance as he practically stood on her palm.

Both Ramon and the clerk gaped. She set Steve down.

"Is that all I am to you?" he asked. "A prop?"

"No," said Diana with a carefree smile, "you are also a convenience."

He huffed, and the two other men laughed.

"Oh," said Ramon, "I am glad I decided to work tonight. Let's see what we can do!"

The haircut was not extreme. Diana liked her hair and wanted to keep it close to its current length, so they settled on layering with a soft curl. Given her hair's body, it was a dramatic difference.

"Are you sure you don't want any more makeup?" asked Ramon, sounding a bit heartbroken.

Diana looked at her reflection, the simple, barely there smokey eye, light contouring cheeks, and nude lip more than enough for her.

"I like this," she said, having had fun but would have been equally comfortable without it.

"You could look so glamorous," he sighed.

She smiled and patted his arm, "I already do."

He couldn't help but laugh at that.

"Yeah, you do," he said as she stood in on smooth motion, steady in her black, wide heeled lace-up sandals. Steve held her bags, having already paid while they were finishing up.

"She is a vision," said the Clerk.

"Thanks, Toni," Ramon said to the clerk. "I really needed this."

Steve came up short, "Toni? As in 'Toni's'?"

"Yes," Toni said. "This is my shop."

Diana looked between them, unsure.

"What?" asked Diana.

Steve sighed a laugh, "Well, given the quality of this establishment, the idea of the owner waiting on you hand and foot for the majority of an evening, and calling someone in on their off hours to come help, that's..."

Diana nodded, "You honor me."

Toni looked a little pink, "Hon, the honor was all ours."

Diana gave a small bow.

"From this day until my last day," she said, "Unless I have no other option, I shall buy my clothing here."

Both men looked taken aback.

"That isn't necessary," said Toni, but from Diana's look, he gave it up.

"Thank you," he said, and she returned the gratitude in kind.

"That was really cool of you," said Steve as they walked out of the store. "Did you mean it?"

She looked at him, and he laughed, "Of course you did."

He sighed, looking a bit wistful.

"What is it, Steve?" she asked.

"Nothing," said Steve, "I just realized... yeah, I'm probably not getting any tonight."

"Any what?" she asked.

He laughed, "Never mind."

They drove the car around the now lit up city, Diana enraptured by the lights and bustle of the people. They found the place Steve wanted and parked at a nearby parking structure, getting a military discount. Diana thought twice and decided to keep her tiara in her small clutch purse, purposefully just big enough for it to fit. Between that, her lasso, and her bracers, she felt prepared for anything that the night might offer her.

The bar was not exactly what she was expecting. It seemed a well kept place, neat and clean with well dressed clientele, but there was something earthy about the place, not exactly seedy but certainly a place where unsavory characters may frequent.

"I have heard of this place," said Steve, "but I have never been here. I heard one of the other pilots rave about it thought. Harold something. Anyway. Wait. Have you ever been drunk before?"

Diana all but guffawed.

"Yes," she grinned. "Drink is not that uncommon."

"Strong drink?" he asked as they crossed into the bar proper.

More than a few eyes followed them as they went to take seats at the bar.

"Strong enough," she said, an almost competitive tone to her voice.

"You've never tried Tequila," said Steve, brushing off a stool for her. They sat and the bartender came over. He was in his late twenties and after taking one look at Diana, it was several more seconds before he could remember how to close his mouth.

"Drinks?" he asked, as though he was sure if that was the right word he should be using.

"Two shots of Tequila," said Steve.

Diana raised an eyebrow, "Make it four."

Steve smiled, "You wouldn't be trying to get me drunk now, would you, Angel?"

She smiled, "Only drunk faster than me."

He grinned, "We'll see about that."

They downed their shots in quick succession, Steve grimacing for more than she, but he seemed to take pleasure in the aspirations.

"So," he said. "Tell me about you."

Diana considered, "What would you like to know?"

He considered, "Have you ever had a boyfriend?"

Diana laughed, "How would I do that?"

Steve came up short, "Oh. Good point. A girlfriend then?"

"No," Diana said, shaking her head.

Steve thought about that, "You've never met anyone you wanted to..."

"Have sex with?" she asked. "No. I haven't."

Steve thought about that, "Not even lusted after?"

Diana thought about it.

"Steve," she said, smiling a little sadly. "I'm not human."

"I know that," said Steve.

She shook her head, "No, you don't. I am truly sand, imparted with the powers of Goddess' and God's blood. I mimic life, warmth, vigor, flesh, but it is all a ruse. That is why my skin really is cold though it doesn't feel so. My blood is red and warm and losing too much will mean my end, but if examined closely, I am sure it would be nothing like yours. And in those small differences, I have never had... desire of that kind."

Steve thought about that, "You are sure?"

Diana laughed, "I was in the presence of Aphrodite herself, and she could tempt me to look for but a moment. It isn't in me the way it is in you."

Steven seemed to consider something, lost in thought, a distant, small smile upon his mouth. Diana couldn't help her smiled.

"She isn't the biggest fan of clothing," she pointed out, and Steve's eyes bugged out a bit.

"You tease," he almost growled, gesturing for more shots.

"What about you?" she asked. "Ever had a boyfriend?"

Steve choked, "What?! No, I-"

She just smiled and he relaxed, "No, I haven't. No experimenting in college, nothing like that."

She nodded, enjoying teasing him. They both took their next shot.

"Girlfriends?" she asked.

"Oh, sure," he said. "I am not even sure how many."

She looked at him, a look of near concern upon her face, "That many? How could you lose count? Did you truly not care?"

He snorted, "Yes and no. I am an easy man to start something with. God, there was a time when, I swear, I would go to bed with any woman who showed any interest in me at all and was willing to put up with me long enough to get to one of our beds, or at least the nearest bathroom."

Diana looked appalled.

"Believe me," he said, "I know how bad it sounds. Trust me; I was there. They were never anything more than sex, a distraction, a fun way to pass the time before the next. I didn't have any illusions about it. It was a good time."

"But you weren't happy," said Diana.

"I was," he said, "but not very."

She shook her head, "I mean that have so much sex made you feel less miserable, but it isn't the same thing as being more happy."

He stared at her, "Huh?"

"It is the difference between subtracting a negative number and adding a positive one," she said. "The sex was making you feel the pain of living without love less. It wasn't taking that misery away and replacing it with something better."

She took his hand, and for a moment, he looked scared.

"You are worthy," she said. "You deserve love and happiness. The fact that you would settle for anything less proves that you don't believe that, but you do. You are a good man, Steven Rockwell Trevor."

He sighed, shaking his head, awed, "You really are a Wonder Woman."

She smiled, "And, I am still not having sex with you."

He grinned, "Now, how can you know you wouldn't enjoy it unless you try it."

Something caught Diana's attention. The door to the bar opened and shut, and man walking in. He was about Diana's height, wearing a tan trench coat over a wrinkled white dress shirt and a barely tied tie. He took a last drag from his cigarette before stamping it out in the provided ashtray, sliding his hand through his exhaled smoke and his ruffled blonde hair. He had a wide jaw and piercing blue eyes, like two orbs of cold flame as he surveyed the bar, scrubbing a thumb across stubble that seemed to have more than a day's worth of growth. The corner of his mouth twitched as his eyes fell on Diana and continued on. Finally, he walked to the bar, nearly five stools down, ordered a Ardbeg scotch neat. He took the drink to a back table where a group of men were playing a game of cards.

"Do you know that guy?" asked Steve.

Diana looked at him, "How would I know him?"

"I don't know," said Steve sounding a bit perturbed. "You were just watching him a lot."

Diana chuckled, "You're jealousy might become a bit taxing if it ever stopped being cute."

"Shut up," Steve said, only half serious.

They downed another set of shots. Steve was starting to smile a bit more than he usually did.

"So you never thought about it?" he asked.

"About what?" she asked.

"Sex," he said.

She considered, "I thought about it. But, to me, it isn't anything more appealing than a hug or a simple kiss, with way more time and effort devoted to it. I suppose if I ever did decide to, it would be for the benefit of the person whom I chose."

Steve shook his head, "Really? I have a hard time imagining ever doing something so selfless."

"Maybe that is why you haven't considered love to be of importance," she said.

"Hey, hold on," he complained. "First, I know love is important. And the day I find the right woman and she chooses me back, I will do whatever it takes to love her for the rest of my life. But secondly, I am not saying that I am uninterested in benefiting the woman I am with. I just mean that it is usually a mutual thing. We use each other but we both benefit. Ideally, we both get what we needed out of it, or at least what we want."

"Or think you want," said Diana. "If anything, I have learned that you rarely know what you want."

"Oh," he asked, the single word slurring a bit. "How's that?"

"You convince yourself you know what you want," she said, "but really, you only think you know what you want. In truth, we all want the same things; love, happiness, peace, choice."

He made a sort of huffing laughing sound.

"What 'bout freedom?" he asked.

"That is the same as choice," she said.

"So," he said. "All those saps trying to sell us new cars and fancy clothes and sex in six inch heels...?"

"Distractions," she said, "as you said. Lies to keep you lying to yourself. What you really need is love."

He laughed, "You make it sound so easy."

"It is," she said. "You just spent your entire life believing that it is hard. It isn't."

He shrugged, "So show me."

She looked sideways at him, "Pardon?"

He leaned in, "Show me what love is like."

She considered, then turned sideways on her bar stool to face him. He had already been facing her, and their knees almost knocked as she crossed them, facing him. Reaching out, she took his hand, looking into his eyes. He felt suddenly uncomfortable as she did so.

"Don't," she said, and his eyes found hers again.

"I am here, Steve," she said, "with you. I am not going to hurt you. Don't run away from this. I know you're afraid, too ready to believe that this will be like all the times in the past, when you thought that you might actually find love this time, but didn't. The pain then was so great, reminding you of each time before it, when the hurt was renewed and redoubled with every disappointment. All you have to do is trust."

He looked nervous as all hell, but didn't turn away.

"I gotta say," he said, "if this is love, it doesn't feel all the appealing."

She smiled, "This is just the first part of the first step."

"What's the next one?" he asked, laughing nervously.

"Relax, Steve," she said, squeezing his hand. "I am not going to hurt you."

He took a deep breath, his smile shaky but there.

"Now," she said. "Tell me something of yourself."

He thought about.

"Nope," she said. "You are thinking too hard. Don't worry about the outcome, how I will respond. Tell me something that scares you, something about yourself that if I heard, you would be convinced that I would reject you out of hand."

He looked down, "I can't do that."

She caught his chin under her finger and raised his face back to hers.

"Trust me," she said. "I could sit here all day, loving you, and it won't mean a thing if you can't trust it."

He looked at their joined hands.

"I want to have sex with you," he said.

Her lips twitched towards a smile but relaxed, and she said nothing.

"It isn't just that," he said. "I want to have sex with you so much that it really doesn't matter whether you want to have sex with me or not. I want to press, to try to convince you, and I am willing to do so even though I know it isn't what you want. If the opportunity presents itself to push in that direction, I will, even if it is just gentle nudging, in the hopes of getting what I want. What you want is nothing to what I want."

Diana breathed for a moment, letting his words seep into her. She felt dismayed and almost hurt. He was admitting that he was willing to get what he wanted at the expense of her free will, against her wishes. He was in no small terms telling her that his will, that he was more important than her. She had never had anyone treat her as anything but an equal as long as she could remember, save for a God or two, and this man, her guide and companion in this world she was only starting to understand, was telling her that he would take advantage of her because she mattered less then him.

He looked ashamed. He looked as a little boy, caught in wrongdoing that he knew was wrong. And in that moment, Diana breathe again, and looked at him with new eyes. He was, in many ways, a child. He was brought up in a world in which he was not taught how to be loving, to be happy, to be trusting. He had to do the best he could, even if that best was far below what she considered acceptable. But, truly, these things didn't make him unworthy of love. In fact, they showed that he needed it all the more.

Reaching out, she touched his face. He looked at her, surprised and almost fearful. Her face was caring, and she found his worry endearing.

"You're still worth loving," she said.

He shuddered, as though to resist her words, to look away, but her hand kept him facing her, and her eyes found his again. She saw the exact moment he decided to and then accepted her words. He shuddered again, but this time, it was as those something eased in him, something that had been clenched tight practically his entire life. He let go and relaxed, through the shoulders and in his face, some measure of peace working its way into him, his breathing easing.

"Are you okay?" she asked.

He snorted a chortle, "Yeah. I really should do this when I am sober. I just feel, sort of raw. In a good way."

She nodded, "Being vulnerable can feel that way. I care about you Steve."

She grinned, "Even if I don't want to have sex with you."

He smiled, "Really, we can stop bringing that up now. I didn't really understand what you meant or why before. Now I am starting to. I'm actually sort of glad that I didn't just sleep with you the way I wanted. It would have been... well, yeah, it would have been fun as all hell, but I don't think it would have gone any further than that. I see what you mean now, if only a little. You want something deeper."

She shook her head, "You need something deeper. Love is not this Tequila, a luxury that is nice to enjoy. It is air, food, warmth, all. It is what we need to live and be happy."

He nodded, "And for that, we need trust."

She nodded, smiling, "Yes."

He took a deep breath and a larger sigh.

"I swear, Angel," he said, "I thought my life changed the day I met you. I think it will keep changing as long as I know you."

She smiled, "I can say the same to you, Steve. Thank you for all that you have done for me."

There was suddenly a loud commotion from the card table.

"Oi, lads," said the blonde newcomer. "It's just a game. No needs for a cob on."

The other men and woman at the table stood, looking disgruntled as they gathered up their few drinks and moved away.

"Will that be all then?" he asked. "No others think they have the brass for a simple card game?"

Diana raised an eye and began to stand, but even so, it wasn't before Steve.

"I've got your brass right here, you limey punk," said Steve, walking around Diana and heading to the table.

"Don't be a meff," he replied. "I'm asking nice like. You can keep your business then, though some might fine business it is at that..."

He tipped an invisible cap at Diana with a roguish smile, then turned back to Steve.

"You've got the brass," he said, "and I'd say you've got the coin."

"You would?" Steve asked.

He snorted, "Why else would the likes of her be out with the likes of you?"

Diana's mouth twisted, but Steve held up a hand, a smile on his lips.

"It's alright, Angel," he said. "It is part of the game."

She looked to him as he sat.

"What are we playing?" he asked

The blonde shuffled the deck.

"I'm absolutely made up at the moment," he said. "Don't quite mind which game you lose at."

Steve snorted, and Diana was starting to understand.

"Five card stud," said Steve.

He sat at the table, and the blonde smirked.

"Antwacky, that," he said. "Sound."

Steve blinked.

"Where the hell are you even from?" he asked, pulling out his wallet.

"That's be telling, mate," he said, then to the bartender, "Oi, La! Get on with the Bevy!"

The bartender rolled his eyes, "Yeah, John. Whatever you say."

"So," said Steve, laying money on the table, "is that just a Lennon thing, or..."

John shook his head, "Or, its my name, you beut! What fun is playing the game if you're so bad at it!?"

Steve furrowed his brows.

"You asked where I'm from," he said, "but if you didn't know, why else would I be called John if we weren't both from Liverpool?"

Steve raised an eyebrow and shifted in his seat, "Or, I could just be an idiot colonial who only knew he was English. Or is it British?"

John snorted, "You're a right sow. Ante up, g'wed."

Steve did, and cut the offered deck.

"How is this game played?" asked Diana.

"Never played Poker, love?" asked John.

Steve, opened his mouth, but exchanged a look with Diana and shut it.

"No," she said.

John looked between them, "She's training you up, lid. Is right."

"Speak English!" expounded Steve.

"Learn English!" said John in a sarcastic imitation of Steve's tone.

Steve gritted his teeth, but Diana could tell he wasn't serious.

"We each get five cards," he explained as John dealt them. "We need specific cards to win. Two or more of the same number or letter. Multiple pairs is better, as is a pair and three of a kind together. Five of the same suit; diamonds, spades, clubs, or hearts. Five of consecutive cards is good too. Five consecutive of the same suit is better."

"Jokers are wild," said John, "Acers are bi."

Steve snorted, "Really?"

John smirked more than a little flirtatiously, "An American taught me that one, la."

John through down one card, and Steve two.

"Once we've seen our cards," said Steve, "we can discard up to three cards for something better."

"Or four if you've got an Ace," said John.

Steve nodded, "From there, we bet who has the better hand."

Diana looked at each in turn.

"I want to play," she said.

"Have any scratch, love?" asked John.

"I'll cover her," said Steve. "We'll deal you in next hand."

Diana nodded.

John dealt out the cards, alternating between the two stacks as he dealt to Steve, then himself, then Steve again.

John only had to glance at his cards and frown.

"Fold," he said immediately.

Steve frowned at his three fours and through them aside.

"You do get that she will be winning your money off you, yeah?" asked John.

Steven shrugged.

"I don't mind," he said mildly.

"You wouldn't," he said, winking at Diana.

Steve took up the cards and started shuffling.

"No loading the deck, neither," John said. "She wins fair or not at all."

Steve glared at him, "I play fair."

"Sound," said John. "I like a clean game. Never have I ever been the first to cheat at a table, though I am nearly always the second."

They anted up and Steve let Diana cut, John giving in with good grace. He dealt the cards.

Steve looked at his two and six of diamonds, his eight of spades, his pair of fours. Fours had been good to him, so he got rid of the rest. Diana discarded two cards, as did John. Steve dealt out the rest. He added the seven and ten of diamonds and the five of spades to his hand, no help there.

"Time to bet," said John.

"Now," said Steve, "this might not be-"

"I bet twenty," said Diana.

"Whoa," said Steve as she reached for a twenty dollar bill close to him and dropped it into the pot. "Let's not-"

"Call," said John, "and raise you another twenty."

"I don't..." said Steve, looking at his hand. "I... fold."

John turned back to Diana.

"I call," she said.

John blinked at her.

"You said she's never played before?" asked John.

Diana looked evenly at him.

"I have not," she said.

John shifted in his seat, getting his feet under him properly and leaned in, looking into her eyes.

"You sure, love?" he asked.

Diana arched her back, rolling her shoulders back, stretching. She tilted her head, looking down at her cards again, placing them face down on the table.

"I am sure," she said.

He shook his head.

"Well," he said, "In that case, I give you a pair of aces."

He laid out the aforementioned cards.

Diana grimaced, "Well, my pair of queens can't stand up to that."

He reached for the money, and she smiled, stopping him cold.

"Which why this pair of jokers helps," she said, laying them down as well.

They looked at her four of a kind hand.

John grinned, "I think I am going to enjoy this."


	12. Chapter 12: Synchronicity

"I have to say, La and Love," said John, "this has been unexpectedly boss."

The bills between them was unexpectedly even, save for Steve who had rapidly realized he was out of his depth. Diana was surprising good for never having played before.

"I have enjoyed it as well," said Diana.

"Now," said John, "for the main event."

He smiled and pushed his money in, "I bet the lot."

Diana looked at her hand, queens full of sevens.

"You have more money than I do," said Diana.

"Simple enough," he said, "Maybe there is something a bit more on your person I wouldn't mind having, say..."

His evaluating eyes had Steve glaring.

"Your shiny bracelets there," he said.

Diana looked at him, "These are worth more than all the money you have here."

He nodded, "Fine by me."

He reached into a pocket and pulled out a small bag.

"What is that?" asked Steve.

"Nth metal talisman," he said. "Wielded correctly, it can ward off magical attacks, keep you warm in cold conditions, negate ghosts, and is said to have some regenerative or resurrecting applications, but I have not worked those meself."

He pulled the talisman out, a flawless looking small icosahedron, each side marked with a different rune in a language that Diana couldn't read.

"I could not give them up," Diana said, touching on bracer on her left arm. "They are almost a part of me. I wouldn't know how to remove them, even if I wanted to."

John considered.

"What would you give for them?" he asked. "Anything in the world?"

She thought about that.

"I need them," she said after her long deliberation. "I am on a quest."

"A quest now?" he asked. "What sort of quest?"

"I am here on behalf of the God Zeus," she said.

There were so many expressions that this statement could have been met with, and disbelieve was not unexpected. But his words were.

"That old divvy?" he asked in surprise. "Quest, is it?"

Diana considered, "I am here to find who is trying to usurp his throne," said Diana, looking about.

All three sort of leaned in, and the mood at the table took on a conspiratorially feel.

"Hang on," said John. "We can't talk here. Let's..."

He looked down at his cards. Diana gave him a competitive smile.

"We'll leave off the talisman and the bracelets," he said.

"Bracers," said Steve.

They both looked at him. He dropped his eyes

"Why am I even here?" he asked, somewhat sourly.

"Because I want you here," Diana said. "But, by all means, leave if that is what you want."

"Not on your life," he said, settling in his chair.

Diana beamed, "Good, then don't complain about it."

He glowered at her as she turned back the cards.

"Call," she said.

She flipped her cards.

John smiled and shook his head, "Not bad, Love."

He flipped his, "But I'm afraid my hearts are stronger."

He held a straight flush.

Diana frowned, pulling back from the cash.

"Keep the rest," said John, pulling only the money he won before their game had started. "That was never what I was after."

Steve gathered up his money.

"What were you after?" asked Diana.

"Not here," he said, standing, nodding to the door. "G'wed."

They paid their tabs and gathered coats and such, they stepped outside, and Diana and Steve came up short. Sitting in the middle of the street before them was a house. It was a Gothic monstrosity, two stories tall with a tower that was a story again as tall. Two chimneys, wrap around porch with posts and a handrail, and high sloped roof gave it an old look, but not worn. Above the porch to the only door that could be seen was a pentagram of protection.

"Come in," said John, heading for the front door. "Be quick about it."

They entered, just in time for Steve to notice that cars were stopping, seemingly of their own cord, their drivers angry, but not seeing the cause before them.

"They can't-" he said.

"Inside," said John.

They closed the door.

"Better," said John. Taking off his coat and hanging it up.

"Welcome to the House of Mysteries," said John, "my home. For now. I won it in a hand of poker against Doctors Fate and Occult, from the latter, who said he won it off a bloke called Father Time. It's dead useful. It moves more freely than most vehicles and protects itself better than most banks. It can keep all but the most powerful eavesdropping spells out, and those I can at least detect. We should be good for a conversation at the very least."

The main room was huge, even by Diana's standards. Vaulted ceilings and wood columns gave the room a warm, inviting feeling, and the books and artifacts that lined the walls gave it a cultured, scholarly air. There was a large fire going in the massive fireplace, though the room was not overly hot.

"Don't take this the wrong way," said Steve, "but who the hell are you?"

John smiled, "I guess we haven't been formally introduced."

He turned back to them, standing beside a warn chair.

"My name is John Constantine," he said. "I am what you might call an Occult Detective."

"A what?" asked Steve.

"Bloody hell," he said. "I'm a paranormal investigator. I detect things that are not of this world. Or, at least, out of the ordinary in this world."

Diana nodded, "That sound... fortuitous."

"How so?" asked John.

"I am in need of an investigator," she said. "Zeus believes someone is here, going to strike at His throne, His power. He doesn't know who and doesn't know how."

John considered this, "That is fortuitous, and troubling."

"Why is that troubling?" asked Steve.

"Two reasons," said John. "The Gods have this sort of sense, almost like knowledge sponge. If you meet Them, They know you, everything about you that They could ever learn from conversation, everything you would willingly tell Them."

He turned to Diana, "If you learned of this person, would you tell Zeus?"

Diana nodded, "Yes."

He shook his head, "Well, you don't. Something happens between now and then that keeps you from ever telling Him willingly. Else, He would know."

Steve thought about that, "Are you telling me that he would know, even if she didn't know now, simply because she would know and tell him?"

"Depends on the God, but yeah," said John. "Zeus, for sure. He is the father of nearly all of Them. The knowledge of where the rest are, the old ones, is lost to mortal kind. For all we know, He killed them."

Diana thought about it, "Do you know who is doing it? Who is preparing to strike at Zeus?"

John snorted, "Not yet. But I might have some idea how to find out."

"How?" she asked.

John bobbed his head and headed to a table.

"Here," he said, leaning over it.

Diana and Steve moved over and found that the table was lined with sand. It was as though someone had carefully drizzled sand into the precise shape of all the land masses on Earth, in proper elevations and all. The reddish sand was glowing in places, motes of light in varying degrees of brightness. The largest was somewhere in the UK. The next largest was somewhere in the Arctic. There were a few spots here and there, through the United States, but also in other countries; China, Germany, Japan, South Korea, more in the United Kingdom, Taiwan, Mexico, Canada, and Singapore. There was a light haze over pretty much everything.

"I don't get it," said Steve.

"This is a globally disruptive force," said John. "This magic, this power, has showed up over the last year, and keeps getting stronger. I have been having trouble tracking it down because it is everywhere. The concentrated points keep moving around. It's like trying to catch specific grains of sand in a whirlwind."

"And?" asked Steve. "What is your point?"

"Until recently," he said, "as in the last couple of weeks, I haven't been able to find sources big enough that I could track them down. Today, I found the biggest on yet."

He pointed to the bright spot in the UK.

"You," he said to Diana.

"Huh?" said Steve. "That's in England."

"We're in England," said John, rolling his eyes.

"What?!" said Steve. "We are under governmental observation! We can't leave the country!"

"Well, ya did," said John. "I'll get you back. Not to worry, la."

Diana went to a window a drew back a curtain. Sure enough, they were in a wooded area, with a small clearing out to hill and countryside, nothing like the city they had been in or the land surrounding it.

"Why me?" asked Diana.

"That's the question, innit?" said John.

He walked over to a space of floor off to one side. He clapped his hands together, making a pop that didn't sound entirely like palms coming together. There was a sound like the echo of quiet discordant thunder, and when he drew his hands apart after shifting them to turn so his fingers were point in opposing directions, an orb of light grew, its center equidistant from each hand as he drew them apart, its edge just touching each palm. As he did so, a circle of light drew itself on the floor, a double circle with curving runes and sigils writ between the two. The center was clear and free of marking.

"In you pop," said John.

"Hold on," said Steve. "What is that?"

John rolled his eyes, "Look, lid. If I wanted to hurt you, there wouldn't be anything you could do to stop me. You knowing every detail won't make it safer or you in more control. So just, have a sit and don't mess your kecks already."

Steve looked disgruntled again, talking a seat, a bottle of Tequila appearing next to him.

"That's good stuff," said John, "so don't have all of it."

Steve took a long pull, ignoring the glass beside it, and John rolled his eyes.

Diana walked into the circle, and immediately, the bracers felt warm.

"As I thought," said John. "But, what's this?"

The lasso about her was glowing too, and she noticed light coming from within her clutch. Without a thought, she pushed the tiara back into place on her head.

John looked slightly awed.

"Aren't you a sight," he said, and Steve glared.

"Wait," said John, moving to the circle's edge. He held out his hands, and there was a coronal sheen playing about them, flicking dark light.

"This isn't the complete set," he said.

He lowered his head and crossed his wrists. He began to speak, but it sounded different, as though more than one person spoke, the two voices layered, one over the other. It sounded otherworldly, the timber of one something that the human mouth shouldn't be able to make, the other sounding as though it was words spoken backwards before being reversed. With a flash, the belt, sword and shield reappeared, each hanging in the air before Diana, each glowing with the same light as her other items. Without a thought, she caught each up, putting them in place about her person.

John subsided.

"Well, then," he said. "That is all of them. Where did you get these?"

Diana put a hand to each, quickly and smoothly, showing reverence and gratitude in turn.

"They were gifts to me from the Gods," she said.

John nodded, "Which one?"

Diana suddenly came up short.

"I am not sure, actually," she said. "I never thought about it nor asked."

"Don't look a gift horse then?" asked John. "I get it."

Diana breathed, wondering if she had erred in not asking more about these gifts.

John touched the glyphs at the edge of the circle and waved his hands through the air, and all the items flashed a brilliant white.

"Eighth Metal," he said. "Course it is."

"What?" asked Steve.

"There are at least nine different levels of purity and strength to metals in this universe as we know it," he said. "The most common used by the Gods is Eighth Metal. These are composed nearly completely of it."

"I think the most likely candidate to who made me these would be Hephaestus," said Diana.

John bobbed his head, "I would agree with you, save for the fact that He is the Smith of the gods, and He would likely use something more than the stuff of the Gods, like Nth Metal."

"Nth?" asked Steve.

"The ninth level," John complained. "Keep up, won't ya?"

Diana nodded, "So, a God is using Eighth Metal in some way, and you are saying it is disrupting magic in the world?"

"Sort of," said John. "It is building up a massive amount of power. It is almost like someone is using it as a battery, and charging that battery up. The stronger it gets, the more power said God will have access to. I am not sure how they are doing it, but if they are amassing power to overthrow Zeus, they are going to need an awful lot of it."

Diana pointed at the Arctic, "You said that is the place with the second largest signature?"

"Yeah," said John, "but I am not stupid enough to go poking around on my own. If there is a God behind this, that would be a good bloody way to get meself pasted."

Diana drew her sword, "I will accompany you."

John looked between her and Steve.

"No offense, Love," he said, "but are you sure you're up to it? This is a God we are talking about."

Diana nodded, "Zeus is my Father."

John blinked, "Right... up to it you are then."

Steve stood, "What about me?"

Diana shook her head, "You will have to stay behind."

"Why?" he asked.

"Because," said Diana, "this is dangerous."

"He's going," Steve pointed at John.

"No," said Diana, "I am taking him. There is a difference."

"Why?" asked Steve.

"Because I need him," she said. "He can tell me about the metal we find there."

"No," said Steve, shaking his head. "Why aren't you taking me too?"

She looked at him, hard, "Because I don't want to."

"Why?" he demanded.

Diana stood straighter, she walked towards him, unblinking. She looked him in the eye, and so intense was her gaze that John looked away.

"I don't owe you anything but what I wish," she said. "I am grateful to you Steve and always will be, but you will never, ever get to make my decisions for me."

He slumped, ever so slightly, "I wasn't trying-"

"Yes, you were," she cut in. "I said no, and the only reason you would need to know the reason behind my decision would be so you could argue against it. I will not be manipulated or controlled by you."

Steve looked more than a little disheartened, "That's not..."

"It was," said Diana, "even if you didn't want it to be what you were doing, it still was. Let it go. All of it. It is my choice, and you can either live with it or not. You can choose to be unhappy about it if you want, but that would be really stupid."

He seemed to relax.

"Okay," he said, "okay. I am sorry."

She smiled, "Good."

She turned to John, "How long will it take to get there?"

He smiled, "I will have to check."

He walked to a map on one wall, "Bollocks."

"What is it?" asked Diana.

"The ley lines are poor," he said. "At best, we can get most of the way there, but then we'll have to walk."

"Won't be a problem," said Diana. "I can travel quickly, even carrying you."

John looked peeved, "No offense, Love, but I'm not the carried sort. We'll figure it out. It will be fast, but it will be hours yet."

Steve looked stressed, "What about the evaluation? Waller and the General won't be happy if you just disappear."

"This is more important," said Diana.

"You should rethink this," said Steve.

Diana looked at him with a stern intensity.

"No," said Steve, "I am not telling you what you have to do. I am someone who understands more than you in this situation. I am telling that just blowing off these people is not something you want to do. There will be consequences for your actions."

Diana nodded, "There always are, good or bad. I will take responsibility for them."

Steve sighed, "Alright. Okay. But please, Diana. There must be something I can do to help you."

She nodded again, "Explain."

Steve looked confused, "What?"

She turned to John, "Can you get him back to the bar?"

"Yeah," John nodded. "In moments. The house can always get us back to where we were last, just in case."

Diana nodded, "Get back to the underground base. Let them know what I am doing and tell them that I will return as soon as I can. This is why I am here, and it is the most important thing I could be doing right now."

Steve nodded, "I will do what I can. It may not be enough."

Diana pulled him to her, giving him a chaste kiss on the mouth.

"That's all we can ever do," she said.

Before Steve could do more than look surprised, John waved his hands and there was a flash of light, and Steve was gone.

"We need to go," said John. "With the rate of the increase over the last few days, the hours we lose now could mean our doom."

Diana nodded, "Let's go."

The house creaked suddenly and John swore, casting a few quick enchantments and the house creaked again, in the other direction.

"Ground is too uneven here," he said. "Come on. We've lost nearly seven hours already."

"Before we go," Diana said, "I need something."

John looked frustrated, "Can it wait?"

She looked down at the dress she wore.

"Oh," he said. "Um, good point."

She told him were to summon from, and in a trice, she was wearing her armor and cloak that she had come here in, John coughing and looking at the ceiling, trying to hide a slightly hot smile behind his fist.

Diana couldn't help but be amused at his antics, "Let's go."

They walked outside and found the land about them covered in ice. The cold bit at Diana, but not enough for her to care.

"Ready?" she asked. John held his left hand out, palm down, casting with his right. A circle of light grew horizontally under him, shot through with roving glyphs and symbols. As he waved his right hand, as though to control it, the circle lifted him into the air as though it were as solid as the earth below him. With a whisper to Hermes, she followed.

It still took some time for them to arrive, since John needed to run a locator spell at the same time, which required stillness on occasion for accurate readings. Finally, after cresting a hill, they found what they were looking for.

"What is that?" asked Diana.

John shook his head, "Haven't the foggiest."

It was a structure, true, but it didn't have the traditional look that Diana was used to. It was almost leaning against itself, interlocking diagonal fixtures of clear stone. It shone in the light of the low sun, and of one thing Diana was certain; it held all the majesty of a Temple.

"We should be respectful upon entering," said Diana.

"Sure, Love," said John, "but enter where?"

It took some searching to find a viable entrance, and the one they did find required some travel by air. At last, they landed inside.

It was mostly as unadorned inside as it was outside. It was white and the ground was more uneven than the ceiling, making Diana think that whomever this dwelling housed, they were as capable in the air as they were on the ground. They hadn't been inside long when suddenly they were surrounded.

"Bloody hell!" cried John as they were suddenly met by seven large automata. They were slate gray and looked formidable to say the least.

"You are trespassing," they said in a singular voice. "Leave immediately or we will use force."

John waved his hands, and a haze seemed to hang in the air, and the machines said no more.

John nearly bowed in pain.

"Are you alright?" Diana asked, coming nearer to him.

"Peachy, Love," he said. "I bought us some time, but only a little. Leave off."

He did the same spell as before, the spell that allowed him to find the Eighth metal nearby. The machines glowed as the circle grew beneath them.

"As I thought," said John, "but wait. There is something different here. There is a different resonance to this metal. It is as though it was made by someone else, or in a different way. I can't tell. It is what we are looking for, that is sure."

Color seemed to leech from the world in Diana's eyes. She felt herself stand straighter, felt her hands close into fists.

"Are you alright, Love?" John asked.

Diana nodded.

"If that is the source," said Diana, pointing at the machines, "then it must be destroyed."

"Wait!" John called, but his cries fell on deaf ears. Diana left the haze about them and the spell was broken.

They came at her, all at once. They were strong, and while they didn't strike her or attack her, they held her with more strength than she could easily throw off. It quickly became a struggle, Diana being held by one or two, keeping herself free of the others just long enough to escape those that held her, only to be caught anew by another. After a tense minute or two, Diana realized she could not simply overbear them without changing her tactics. She pulled her lasso, and as one held her, she looped the cord about its wrist. As she escaped, she pulled the lasso around, slamming the machine into one of its compatriots, doing so with enough force that they both were rent. She pressed her advantage, and soon, they were all bent and broken at her feet.

"Child's play," said Diana, looking at John with a smile. Her expression was not returned. John's face was white, his mouth and eyes wide, looking over her shoulders.

"Now," said a deep, resonate voice behind her, "I know you are in the wrong place."

She turned and took an almost staggering step back.

He was in the air, just enough that landing a solid blow on him would be difficult if she were to remain on the ground. He was just larger than her, just enough that his reach would give him the advantage. His build was large, not the overly thick cords of muscles the Gods had. He was undeniably strong, but his confidence in that strength was not posturing but earned. His bright blue eyes were almost unnaturally pure yet flared with a piercing demand for explanation. His red cloak fluttered over his blue clad form, his arms crossed over the symbol upon his chest, one that Diana did not know.

"We need to go," said John in a low hiss, "now!"

"Why?" asked Diana, completely calm.

"Are you out ya barnet?!" he all but cried, his accent thickening, "That's the blooming Man of Steel, that is! And we make a show at his place like a couple of sodding beauts! Come 'ed!"

Diana looked at him, then back to the newcomer, "You are concerned that I will not defeat this one?"

"Hey," the hovering newcomer said, and Diana could feel the tension begin to racket up. "There will be no fighting. What are you doing here?"

"He's in your f-ing league, Love," said John. "That is a fight you may not win."

Diana smiled.

"Intriguing," she said, then asked "They were your machines?"

"Yes," said the Man of Steel. "Why did-"

Diana swung. She had leaped and did so with such speed that her blow landed. But to her surprise, she rebounded. It had been a solid blow, one that would have staggered an Amazon at the very least, if not laid her out, but he didn't even move, in the air as he was. She only just kept her feet, skidding backwards at a kneel until she found her footing.

"That's enough," he said, utterly unfazed. "I'm not going to fight you. Just explain why you-"

Diana struck again. This time, she didn't hold back at all. The blow seemed to catch him unawares, perhaps expecting that it would be as fruitless as the last one. He was thrown backwards, crashing into the far wall, denting it severely. He was not dazed or cowed as Diana would have hoped. He was now even more determined. With a speed she would have thought only the Gods were capable of, he flew at her, ducking her next blow and hooking her around the waist. Catching John in tow, they flew out the way they had come and upon landing, the two trespassers were cast into the snow.

"Alright," he said. "I am starting to lose my patience. Who are you and what are you doing here?"

Diana stood, looking at him in appreciation.

"This is going to be fun," she said with a smile, and charged.


	13. Chapter 13: Dawn

Lois rolled over in bed, her hand going, as it always did these days, to the spot beside her. It was vacant, as it was every morning, though she knew it hadn't been, from the telltale warmth of the man who had been sleeping beside her was still there.

She understood Clark was old-fashioned, and that, to him, this was the best of both worlds. He would sleep beside her, as Lois knew, every night, but he would do so without being present while she was awake. She found that she loved finding the evidence he had been there almost as much as she would love to wake up beside him, but she was starting to find the pretense, well, a bit pretentious.

She sighed. Maybe she was just frustrated. Again, Clark was old-fashioned, and she had never dated anyone this long without it leading to, well, more time in the bedroom. But, then again, she had never dated anyone this long period, so...

Getting up, she sighed again. She trusted Clark. She knew that this was the right thing to do, even if she wanted it both ways. But she knew from the depths of her heart to the tips of her soul and back that she loved Clark, and she trusted him to do what made him the happiest, knowing full well that if she asked, he would gracefully say no in a way that would show her that he loved her all the more. The jerk.

Her phone chirped, and she smiled broadly, not even needing to read it to know what it said.

Good morning.

She grinned, "You could hang around, you know. I wouldn't mind."

I haven't the faintest idea what you are talking about, chirped her phone.

"Oh, really," she said, quirking an eyebrow as she started to undress. "And your side of the bed just happened to warm itself up?"

*averts eyes* That sounds serious. Maybe you should have your building's maintenance staff look into that.

Lois laughed, sliding lacy bits into place and hooking that which needed to be hooked, still wondering if he actually watched her do this or if he might notice. She put on a profession skirt and a blouse she knew he loved.

"Are we still meeting at the airport today?" she asked.

I can pick you up if you like.

She grinned, knowing what that meant.

"I will think about it," she said almost teasingly.

I know what that means.

She grinned, putting on a jacket that matched the skirt and stepping into a professional heel. Putting on her professional, under five minute makeup, she grabbed her bag and opened her front door, leaping into his arms before she even knew he was there.

The kiss was just passionate enough to sate her and still brief enough not to have her wishing to go back inside.

"I'd never turn down an opportunity to fly with you," Lois whispered.

Clark grinned, and she wondered how she had ever let some glasses and a little shift in posture hide the man he truly was from her.

"And I would never turn you down," he said, hugging her so gently in those arms of his that Lois got butterflies.

"Shall we?" he asked, and she grinned.

They did go back into her apartment, only long enough to close the door. For a moment, Lois had the wildest errant thought that he might pull her to the bedroom, but his knowing little look at the way the thought doubtlessly made her heart leap was enough to make her grin back, the idea squelched. They left via the balcony, Lois still amazed that they could fly at such speeds, and yet her hair was only lightly buffeted, her vision unobscured by wind. They landed at the small, private airport out of sight of anyone else. They walked up, and Clark looked around.

"We are on time," he said. "They will be landing shortly."

She shook her head, "You really could have gotten this job all on your own. As though Clark Kent could never find a story..."

He smiled, "I sort of prefer the way I got the job."

She beamed, "Here we go."

The plane landed without much fuss or fanfare. They were the only reporters in sight as the private jet taxied and came to a stop near the hanger where they had landed moments earlier. Almost as soon as the jet had stopped, the door flipped down, revealing a staircase that made it most of the way to the ground, and Bruce Wayne stepped out.

Lois took in the billionaire, his suit probably costing more than all her clothes and Clark's combined. He had a triple digit haircut and his physique was enough to make most ladies weak in the knee. But Lois wasn't most ladies. Some might have found his easy confidence appealing and his smooth grace suggestive, but she knew what real power, what real confidence looked like, and she wasn't fooled.

She glanced at Clark, "Really?"

Clark looked back at her, "What?"

"That's Bruce Wayne?" she asked.

Clark looked confused, but knew her well enough to know that when she felt it was time to explain, she would.

"Well, well, well," said Bruce as he walked up, "it seems my arrival wasn't quite as secretive as I had hoped. But, what should I have expected from Metropolis' most illustrious young reporters?"

He bowed over Lois's hand, but the moment when lips might have met skin, she drew the hand back.

"Cute," said Lois.

"Cute?" asked Bruce.

She waved a hand at him, "Your little act. What, you play brainless playboy so people will underestimate you? Does that actually work?"

Bruce looked at her, then looked at her again, but this time, his look was calculating, his expression shrewd. Then, he shifted his stance, standing with the surety of someone who knew how to handle himself. His expression was mostly closed, very hard to read, but with just enough for him to make his expression known. His eyes were precise, measuring everything around him quickly, missing nothing and going immediately to whatever he found the most important. At this moment, it was on her face and her reaction.

She almost shivered, "That's more like it…"

He smiled, and there was something practically smoldering behind that look, something dark and possibly dangerous. She could understand that more than a few ladies would have found him even more appealing, finding that behind the playboy facade. She used to be one of them, but not anymore. She knew what she wanted, having found it, and she would never be swept up by tantalizing falsehoods again.

She looked up to find his eyes were still on her, looking closely.

"Clark is a lucky man," he said, something about him more sincere than he had been. Lois came up short.

"How did you...?" she asked.

He gestured with his eyes, and she saw that she had not taken off her engagement ring. She usually took it off when entering the Planet, mostly to keep Cat and Angela from squeeing like tweenage girls who's BFF had just had her first boyfriend. She made it a point never to wear it when doing an interview or working outside the office. She kept it on when they were in social situations and absolutely every date night. Being outside of her usual routine, she had forgotten.

It was then that Lois realized she was completely out of control of this interview. He had pretty much had his way with her from the start. She didn't like that.

"So, Wayne Tech is completely severing ties with Luthor?" she asked, a bit heatedly.

Bruce smiled, his face friendly and his tone conversational. Even now that Lois knew what was behind it, she still had trouble seeing the mask anymore.

"We at Wayne Enterprises have a zero tolerance policy when it comes to weapons dealers who supply terrorists," he said. "I came over to oversee the total dissolution of our dealings."

"As well as a possible buyout?" asked Lois.

Bruce smiled, "Yes, actually, but not of Lexcorp."

Lois came up short.

"You're after Star Labs?" she asked.

Bruce's smile became truly genuine, "Hmm. I can see why Clark is interested in you."

Lois was about to retort, but Clark took her hand.

"I think you'll find," said Clark, so much still his bumbling self yet firmly himself in all the ways that matter, "I am more than interested in her."

Bruce's smile didn't shift at all, "Of course, Mr. Kent. She is a lovely woman."

Lois was about to snap a bit, being talked about like a prize, but with the faintest squeeze from Clark, she was able to see that they weren't. She only felt like they were because...

She looked between the two. They were looking at each other, but it was more than that. It was almost as though they knew each other.

Suddenly, her phone buzzed.

"Oops," she said, realizing just how much she had forgotten herself this morning. Clark flying her to an interview normally didn't put her out this much. She checked the screen.

"I have to take this," she said, stepping away. "Excuse me."

She took a few steps away. Clark and Bruce looked to each other.

"You didn't tell her," Bruce said, not asking.

Clark smiled, "She never asked. I can keep a secret, you know."

Bruce smiled, "Could have fooled me."

"Will you be in town long?" Clark asked.

"Why?" Bruce asked. "Want to grab a beer?"

Clark smiled, "I was trying to ask if we were expecting any visits from the caped crusader."

Bruce bobbed his head, "Not to my knowledge, but it is always good to be prepared."

Clark nodded, "Having Bruce Wayne and Batman in Metropolis at the same time might not be the best idea."

Bruce tilted his head, as though indicating that it couldn't be helped, "If Batman is needed, he will be there. I can set up an alibi later. Maybe having dinner with a pair of reputable reporters."

Clark laughed, "If Batman is needed, odds are Lois will be just behind you."

Lois walked back over to them.

"What is it?" Clark asked.

Lois smiled thinly, rather weakly for her.

"Your dad?" he asked.

Lois looked surprised, almost asking him if he had been listening before remember they were in mixed company.

"Sort of," she said. "Something is going on. Apparently someone of interest came into town there yesterday, someone who has since gone missing. My contacts at the Military think she could be a major player."

"She?" asked Bruce. Lois literally ignored him.

"Missing how?" asked Clark.

"As in she was supposed to be there this morning and didn't show," she said. "But from the intel I am getting, she may be a pretty powerful meta-human."

Clark looked a bit concerned.

"Where did this happen?" he asked.

"Coast City," said Lois.

Bruce stilled. It managed to catch both their attention.

"Six foot even," he said, as though from a memorized list, "Black shoulder-length hair, blue eyes, athletic and noticeably attractive?"

Lois raised an eyebrow, "'Noticeably attractive'?"

"Diana of Themyscira," he said, and it was Lois's turn to still.

"How did you know that?" she asked.

Bruce smiled, "I met her."

Lois couldn't help but wonder at that moment what billionaire Bruce Wayne deemed noticeably attractive.

"I-" she started, but then noticed Clark. He was looking away, in that way she knew meant he wasn't looking at anything a human could see.

"I think we should go," she said. "This story just got pushed back."

Bruce nodded, "Of course. Now, if you two would like a follow up..."

He handed over a card, and Lois took it.

"Thank you," she said, talking Clark's hand. They walked away, Clark still distracted.

"What is it?" she asked when they were well enough away.

"I have to go," Clark said. "Something is happening at the fortress."

Lois looked at him, "That place in the Arctic? The one you still haven't taken me yet?"

He looked strained and she didn't continue the teasing.

"Go," she said, looking around. "I can make my way back."

She suddenly found that she was standing on her balcony, the lightest warmth of a kiss lingering on her cheek.

"Show off," she grinned, touching the spot, looking dreamily off to one side.

Clark had sensed the intruders and come to the fortress to find that they had, in fact, defeated the Fortress Guardians, the former LX6. They laid in pieces upon the floor, having camouflaged themselves as to not give away their charge's identity. The two were an odd pair to say the least. The male, who was standing behind and away, had the body language of a cornered animal, ready to ditch and run at the first sign of trouble. Clark gathered that he had seen a lot of it. He was dressed as you might expect at person on the streets of a major city, wearing a button up shirt, common trousers and a tan London Fog with a loose tie. He did carry with him a number of items that could only describe as being occult in nature, but what surprised Clark was that more than a few of them were made from substances with properties and elements he had never seen before. And the other...

He didn't know what to make of Diana. She appeared to be human, very human. She breathed, but what came out of her lunges was very much the same concentration of gases that went into them. Her skin was cool to his eyes, but he could feel warmth coming from her, even from here. Her body had cells, but none of them were dividing, at all. She had no dead skin cells sloughing off, no loose hairs. Her heart beat, and blood flowed, but it was all artifice. Her organs all seem vestigial, as though present but without function, as though all that passed into her and out again was only changed when absolutely necessary, and then by means unknown. She was seemingly alive, but she was not human at all. And Clark had no idea how dangerous she was.

He did his best to deescalate the situation, but as soon as she laid eyes upon him, he could see something he recognized from his fight with The Kryptonian General Zod; she saw him as an enemy, and he knew not how to change her mind.

After her first few blows, it was obvious to Clark that she was strong enough to seriously, if not permanently, damage the Fortress. He grabbed them both at his top speed, flying the two of them out and away. But once clear, unsure how fast she was, he tossed them both to the ice, keeping his distance. Again, the man got clear, but she didn't give him a single chance.

They fought, and the blows were fierce, at first. It was as obvious to Clark that, while she was an experienced fighter, she was not used to fighting anyone as strong as her as it was to Diana that the exact opposite was true about him. She kept having to hit harder and harder to try and find what it took to daze or even faze him, still not finding the amount necessary. Clark was hesitant to hit her, not sure how much his blows might damage her. Each struck in turn, and as each blow fell, they both escalated their blow's severity. She was strong, strong enough that it started to hurt, really hurt, and she was not letting up. She was learning quickly, and not slowing down, nearly as fast and as strong as he was. Clark started to feel something, something he had not felt since his first dealings with Luthor; Clark was starting to get angry.

Clark remembered this feeling, the feeling that he was the Earth's first line of defense if the forces of evil were to attack. If any should oppose him, actually having the power to take him down, he wasn't just fighting for his own life; he was fighting for the lives of every person on the planet. He knew that he couldn't fly off the handle to just destroy someone, but if push came to shove, he would have to push back, and hard, perhaps onto someone's death.

The fight became worse. The blows went from something painful to something that actually cause Clark damage. It wasn't a lot of damage, as it had been with the three Kryptonians, but was still more than Clark usually felt and he did need some moments afterwards for it to heal.

Diana felt the pain, but for some reason, here, she was stronger than she had been on the Island. His fists didn't actually do her harm, the way that Aresia's had done. The impacts were staggering only in that she need time to understand the pain and tune it out. He didn't cause her to bleed, and she had yet to draw blood from him, but he was stronger and faster than any foe she had yet faced. It was time to press her other advantages.

She pulled the lasso from her hip and stepped around his next cross, catching his fist in its loop. Pulling him around, she slammed him into the ice before leaping up, pulling him into the air before pulling him down once more with even more force, enough to break the stone below the ice as well. The blow seemed to clear the cobwebs from Clark's brain.

"I don't want to fight you!" he cried. "I am not your enemy!"

She flew at him, and at such speed, he could just make out her posture and intent. She was going to tie him. He was able to speed away from her, but at the moment when the cord pulled taught, he could go no further. He pulled against the cord, but at best, he dragged her along with him. He grabbed the cord in a fist and tried to break it from his arm, but could not.

"I have you!" she cried. "You will not get away!"

He grabbed the cord tight, then, hovering above the ice, he began to spin.

At first, the cord wrapped about him, but he kept spinning, steadily. Diana, having nothing to hang to, tried with Hermes' aid to hover in the air, to hold tight to her placement above the ground, but she was not strong enough. She spun too, and her mass drew the cord out from him, unwinding it until it would have slipped entire from him, but at the last moment, he caught it.

Clark heard something then. It was the man who had been with her. He was as close as he dared, and was shouting something. Clark paid him no mind. He changed the angle of his spin and at the right moment, he pitch her, adding his own throw into her force, up into the sky.

Something changed. Diana, who up until that point, slid through the air as though it were not even there, now was met by the force of it. She was moving at such speed that it burned her. It caused heat, which had little effect on her, but it was so constant and took actual effort for her not to be overwhelmed by it. Then, the pressure of it stopped, but she found that there was no longer air for her to breathe. She started to feel her mind slacking. She couldn't understand. What was happening? She need to call upon someone, something about moving down. She looked around and found she was looking down. She knew this. Zeus had showed her this orb. It was... was it the Earth, the world she was looking upon. She started to black out, until he hit her.

She was shocked awake. He grabbed her, hitting her again and again. She felt out of control, unable to think or form thoughts. She realized that she might lose. For the first time in her life, she faced that which all Amazons had forced upon those who matched their strength to theirs in mortal combat and failed; she felt her own mortality. And in a single thought of defiance, she grabbed him and dove for the planet below.

The impact was extreme. They didn't impact on ground, but in the water off the shore of a great city. Hitting the water was like hitting ground, causing a massive wave to spring forth and crest outwards. So forceful was their impact that they didn't even enter the water properly and before they could sink in earnest, they began the fight anew, each blow causing the other to skip across the surface of the water before they were either struck again or able to recover and strike the other in turn. They crashed into the shore, into a large dock for massive ships, it was then that he held up a hand.

"Stop!" he commanded. "There are people here!"

"Enough," she cried. She drew the sword at her hip and took up her shield. "This ends now!"

She went for him. To her surprise, he didn't attack her. He dodged, effectively. Again and again. He was completely passive, completely defensive. He took up an improvised weapon, usually light posts and trash cans as their fight took them down the city's streets, whenever he knew he would not be able to avoid her sword, but she discarded it quickly and dodged anew. Finally, he struck.

He had waited patiently, picking his moment, and struck her surely, down. She struck the ground with enough force that she rebounded, her grip on her shield faltering but not her sword. He took it from her, and while it was not nearly natural in his hands as it was in hers, he used it to great effect as both in defense and offense.

Diana wiped the blood from the corner of her mouth.

"Not bad," she said, starting to feel the fight and its length. "But you aren't going to win."

A hard look crossed his face.

"I cannot let you win," he said, "The world depends on my survival."

She laughed, "That sounds like hollow justification. My quest is ordained by the Gods!"

He took a deep breath, "You are a fanatic. I don't want to put you down, but I will, if I have to."

"Then you will have to!" she cried, reverse the grip on her sword. "I am willing to die for what I believe in. To kill! Can you say the same?"

They fought their way into a city park, their blows and counters increasing in ferocity and desperation. Finally, it happened. After a terrific placed strike and a solid counter, Diana knocked the shield aside just enough to slice a diagonal slash across the symbol on his chest.

Clark cried out in pain, holding the bleeding wound. He looked down, looking at his cupped hand run slick with his own blood. Even as he watched, the wound quit bleeding, but he knew. He knew that if this fight went on, she could and would kill him.

He ended it. It was as though he let go of everything. No fear, no pain, no doubt, no thought of potential regret. Diana thought she was ready, but even as she struck her feint, it was as though he knew, as though he had been watching and learn her motions this whole time, knew her method of fighting and saw right through her. His experience trumped her skill, and he sacrificed the shield, his only weapon he had, and risked his body to step into her range of attack, putting his back to her to get behind her blade. Before she could find a way to counter such a sacrificial move, he took her blade from her grip and, completing to turn to face her again, stabbed her through the gut.

"No!"

Diana was confused. It had been a woman's voice, an unfamiliar woman. In the pain and disorientation, she found her, standing at the edge of the crowd. She looked sad, scared. Diana didn't understand.

Clark pulled the sword out. The blade had not gone deep, but it was enough. She was bleeding freely. He felt... satisfied. And then, as though through an echo in his own thoughts, Lois's voice came to him.

"Clark," she asked. "What have you done?"

And like that, everything snapped into sharp relief.

Something... something had been in his head! Clark could sense it now in his memories, feel it by its absence. It had been coloring his views, carefully crafting his decisions, pressuring him. He could clearly remember his words now, the words of the man who had been with her in the Arctic.

"It isn't real!" he has cried. "He's clouding your perceptions! Listen to me!"

Clark could see it now. He looked down at the sword, red with her blood, red with the blood of the woman he had stabbed, who he might have killed.

"No," he said quietly, then louder, "No!"

He cast the sword aside. Holding up his hands, he went to aid her. She punched him in the face. He fell.

"No," he said. "Wait. Let me explain. Let me help you."

She gritted her teeth.

"No," she said. "You are going to die for that."

Then, Clark could see it. It was in her too. She was just as lost as he had been, just as unable to see it. He was going to have to keep fighting, but this time, he had something to lose, and she still did not.

"I can't let you do this," he said. "But I won't kill you."

"Then you will die!" she cried, the pain still fierce on her face, the anger, the defiance, the warrior ready to do whatever it took to win the day.

And, it was in that truth that Clark had one advantage. She went for the sword, he was ready. He understood, from his knowledge of those in pain, from fighting the truly desperate, from his understanding of the skewed perception he had just had moments ago; she would go for the sword and keep going for the sword. It was a constant for her, and all he had to do was be ready for it.

And he was. Every time she made a play for it, he was one step ahead of her. When she got close, he was able to distance her from it or it from her. He was able to tie her up, if not literally, slow her down, get in her way, take some blows, whatever it took to keep her separate from it. He was almost playful about it at times. He saw that it was just a game, a simple rule with an easy to follow structure. He didn't need to take it so seriously. It could almost be fun.

Finally, she figured out what he was doing. She stopped. Her hand to her gut, she turned.

"No," she said, her temper flaring. "I know now. I understand."

She let go of her wound, and with a nearly ecstatic smile, she cried, "Hera! Give me strength!"

The blood slowed from her wound. She suddenly stood tall and ready. Her anger seemed to grow cold and hard. She looked sure and proud and unyielding. Clark swallowed.

He swung at her, but she caught his arm on hers. He reached for her and she caught his grip in her own. He struck at her with his free hand and she let him. He hit her twice, to no effect. She caught his second hand in hers, their fingers interlocked. She squeezed, bringing her full weight and might down upon him. He staggered. He bowed. He fell to his knees. She was greater than he.

Taking rapid breaths against the pain, he looked up at her. Her face was filled with that other entity, that other self. He suddenly saw her as the pawn she was in that moment, acting possible against her own will. He had to stop her, for her own sake, for the sake of those he protected. But he would not kill her. He knew his own limits, and he knew he did not have the strength to defeat her. So, Clark got stronger.

Clark had not yet come up against a force that was stronger than himself. So far, everything he had met would yield to him. There wasn't an apparatus devised or created that he was aware of that could test the outer limits of his strength, let alone exceed the ability of his muscles to sustain force. Until now.

His mass shifted. He didn't grow, but what had once been the well balanced build of an overall athlete became something else. He became toned in a way that he had not been before, his build swelling in muscle and becoming leaner everywhere else. He went from being athletic to an athlete in peak and perfect physical condition.

It was slow, at first. He pressed, hard, and as his body found that it could build, could sustain the drive, the change happened more quickly. Soon, it had plateaued, and he stood again, able to match, then hold, then reflect the force she pushed against him. He held her, and even as she hopped to allow her to free a leg, her kick landed against the hard muscle of him, and was completely ineffective.

"Hold her!" cried a familiar voice.

Diana looked over.

"John," she said, "Get me my sword."

"Hold her," he said again, and Clark did.

He drew a circle on the street around them. First it was in chalk, but the pavement was too cracked for a complete circle, so John summoned a bag of pure white sand.

"What are you doing?" Diana cried. "No!"

Clark let every blow fall upon him, and soon, he held her by the waist, his face turned away as she raged, anchored to the spot as she battered him, his arms locked to each other about her.

John completed the circle, then crooking his fingers into weird shapes, began his chanting. The sand glowed and flashed, and suddenly, Diana was free.

She fell to the ground, panting. Her head splitting with pain. Every muscle in her ached, and her wound cried for attention. Rubbing the tight muscles in her neck, she sat back on the ground.

"Are you back?" asked Clark.

She shook her head minutely, more in an attempt to shake off confusion than negation.

"I am not entirely sure," she said.

He offered her a hand up. She took it.

"What was it?" she asked.

"Ares, best as I can tell," said John.

He looked like he was about to go on, but then there was the sound of official vehicles pulling up to the edge of the park and orders to step aside. Only then did Diana notice that they had drawn quite the crowd about them.

"And, that is my cue," said John. "I will be in touch."

There was a sudden wind and a flash, and he vanished in a puff of smoke.

Clark looked at those approaching them.

"Come with me," he said, offering a hand. "We need to talk first."

Diana nodded. He took her hand and like that, even without the aid of Hermes, she floated into the air with him. They flew upward at an unbelievable speed, her body able to sustain it without the need to be held up by him physically. It felt strange, as though his abilities could more ability fit themselves to her as they could the others he cared in this way. Before she had time to really think further upon this. They landed on a rooftop.

"How is your injury?" he asked her.

She looked down. The blow had been a good one, if not as lethal as it could have been. Thanks to the touch of Hera upon her, it was no longer bleeding, but it was not healing as quickly as she normally did. Maybe it was the blade. Maybe it was the seriousness of the injury. Maybe it was that she wasn't on Themyscira. It was hard to know.

"I will recover," she said. "It will need tending before long, but I am in no danger or unreasonable pain."

Clark almost snorted, "You sound like..."

He did laugh then, "Never mind. What are you doing here?"

She nodded, "I am Diana-"

"-of Themyscira," he completed. "Right."

"You know me?" she asked.

"Of you," he affirmed. "I've been keeping an ear out. The military was concerned about you, thought that you might be a threat."

He looked down at his own wound, now scabbed over and beginning to heal.

"I believe that they were right," he said.

She raised her eyebrows, "Would you mind elaborating?"

"This is bad," he said. "I am not sure I can fully explain."

"I can," said a voice Diana recognized.

She looked up. It was the woman, from before, the one who had cried out when her sword had pierced her. How had she gotten here?

Even though her words and tone implied explanation, the woman only had eyes for him.

She hurried to his side and to Diana's surprise, they embraced unabashedly. He looked so slender, so small in his arms, but also right that way somehow, and not weak by contrast. Once he had set her again on her feet, she looked him over, her fingers finding that new curve of his forearm, running about the outline of the cut across his chest. Her eyes were full of care yet were entirely lacking in worry. Something about her manner and presence had Diana convinced that she was the most genuine person she had ever laid eyes since she had left the Island.

She turned to Diana, a health dose of dislike in her expression, which was all too understandable.

"You better get talking, lady," she said to Diana, her tone utterly determined.

Diana blinked at her, momentarily at a loss. This woman, who evidently was no more powerful than any other mortal she had met here, had found her way into the heart of a man, a warrior, who was near enough to that of a living God upon Earth. And, what is more, he was taking her completely seriously. For the first time since she had left Themyscira, Diana thought she had found a woman worthy to be called an Amazon.

"I am Diana of Themyscira," she said. "I have come here on a quest set before me by my father, the Almighty Zeus."

The woman looked at her blankly.

"Lois," he said carefully. "She is completely serious."

Lois looked between the two.

"Seriously?" she asked. "Zeus?"

"Lois," he said.

She looked at him, and he held his hands wide, as though indicating himself.

"Right," she said.

Diana blinked. As confident as she was, she was still completely capable of allowing others to remind her of the truth? Diana was starting to find her even more appealing with every moment.

"What is this quest?" she asked.

Diana looked at him.

"I am not sure if I should speak so frankly in front of him," she said.

He looked confused, "Why?"

"Because," she said, "it was my quest that led me to you."

"You can speak freely," said a digitally altered voice behind them. All turned to face the newcomer.

He stood in the shadow beside the structure in which the roof door was set. He was adorned in black armor, cowled and cloaked in dark. He had all three of Diana effects, the sword slipped through the handles of the shield, the lasso hung from the hilt. He walked forward, holding them out to her. Diana took them. He then pulled two implements from his belt, and knelt before Diana, close to her wound. He clipped the wound closed with a series of metal brackets and sprayed some sort of liquid bandage upon it which numbed the area. She returned each implement to her back or hips.

"Thank you," she said, something familiar about him.

"How did you find us?" Clark asked.

"Easy," the dark one said, indicating Lois with a hooked thumb. "I followed her."

Lois looked between the two, feeling as though she was missing something. It was the second time today-

"Took you long enough, Bruce," she said.

Both men came up short, but hers smiled.

"She isn't stupid," he said proudly. "She saw us together, both ways. She was going to figure it out sooner or later."

Lois practically smirked, "Please, as though it was such a great secret. In a cursory search, it would be obvious that the Batman was backed by technology that only a few people in the world could afford. And since Simon Stagg, Maxwell Lord, Curtis Knox, Arthur Queen, and Lex Luthor don't live in Gotham, the short list became shorter."

There was a short silence, then Bruce smirked in kind.

"Clark told me first," he said, his voice no longer digitally modulated.

The utter shock that filled Lois face actually made Diana laugh. Clark looked like he might have too, if her look didn't cow him out of it. The laugh did make her go a rather endearing shade of pink, and without a worry, Diana found herself embracing the doubly surprised woman.

"Come," Diana said, "let there be no secrets here."

She took the lasso from her hip.

"This cord is a powerful, powerful binding," she said. "It cannot be broken, nor while in contact with it can a lie be spoken."

He held it in her grip, a faint glow emanating from it.

Without hesitation Clark stepped forward and held a section of the cord.

Bruce, taking a moment, removed a glove, and then took his own corner of it. It was held to each of them a triangle of gold.

"Diana," said Diana, "Wonder Woman."

"Clark Kent," said Clark, "Born Kal-El of Krypton. Superman."

"Batman," said the last. "Bruce Wayne."

Then, each in turn said, "I pledge that I mean you both no harm and, should your quests be true, do all in my power to aid you, and should they not, do all in my power to return you to the path of justice."

They talked then, Lois standing to one said, as witness. They laid it all out.

"I tracked the power source to the Arctic," finished Diana's explanation.

"The LX6s," said Clark. "They weren't originally mine. Batman altered their programming for me, but they were previously in the care of Lex Luthor."

Diana, as she had every time she needed to, turned to Lois.

"Wealthy criminal," she explained succinctly, as she had, every time.

"Ah," said Diana, "so these machines might have gotten the power infused within them before you had possession of them, without your knowledge."

"This is troubling," said Bruce. "Luthor in collusion with someone who seeks to overthrow Gods is frightening, nearly as frightening as someone pulling one over on Luthor."

Lois nodded, "You think that it is possible that Luthor didn't know either?"

Bruce rubbed his chin, "It's possible. I have looked over his files pretty extensively, and I have seen nothing to suggest a larger plot than the one to undermine Clark."

Diana straightened, "What is this about?"

"Luthor tried to defeat Clark," said Bruce, "first by moving him out of his reality, then by force. Neither worked and he is now in prison."

Diana laughed, "A mortal tried to defeat Clark?"

Bruce shrugged, "I might be able to do it."

They all stared at him.

"Clark might not have the best interests of the people at heart," said Bruce. "If I had to defeat him, I would try. It is something I have given thought to."

"That is something we should talk about," said Lois.

"What is?" asked Clark.

"You two," she said, indicating Clark and Diana, "just had a very public brawl in which both proved that they were a peer to the other. That is bad."

"Why is that bad?" asked Diana.

They looked at Bruce, who nodded.

"Politically, it will have some pretty significant impacts," he said. "Officials will use it as a reason to spread fear and also boost their own clout by suggesting that they and only they can defend us from the big bad heroes who damage property and might decide to turn against the people. Behind closed doors, the government is not the biggest fan of Superman, because he isn't a factor they can control. Until you came along, they thought there wasn't a force who could contend with him. Now that they know there is such a thing, they will likely try to control you and look for other means to fight Superman, should they need to."

"I take it that is bad," said Diana.

Lois sighed, "Military and Government interests don't always coincide with those of the people. They generally pursue their own interests, which involve control and power. People like you and Clark and Bruce, they undermine the established order and make it harder for the government to do what it has always done. If, say, a fight breaks out between two powerful heroes, the government can no longer make the claim that it can save the people from outside forces and defend them if need be. It makes them look weak and impotent, and that flies in the face of what they do."

Diana bowed her head. She was supposed to be here as an ambassador, and she had fought with this nation's begrudged champion, ducked out on her responsibilities to the government she was trying to establish a positive connection with, and she was still no where closer to discovering who was responsible for the power that was building on this world.

"I have made a mess," she admitted.

"Yes," said Bruce, "but it might work for us."

"How?" she asked.

"The government wants a contingency if Superman goes rogue," he said. "You just showed that you can be one. So be their one."

Diana considered, setting her chin on her fist.

"Agree to be their tool," she said, unsure.

Lois smiled, "You have showed them what you can bring to the table. Clark has made agreements with the government in exchange for certain liberties. You can too."

She looked at Clark.

He shrugged, "I agreed to defend the Earth and this country against invasions. I agreed that I would work with law enforcement and the military whenever they requested it, and to desist whenever they ask."

Bruce snorted.

"I also went to the United Nations and made the same agreements with whichever nations would have me," Clark went on. "Almost all did, but I won't be going to Kaznia or Corto Maltese any time soon. I also do a lot of charity work for the city and country. I help out in case of natural disasters and the like."

Diana nodded, "I can do all of that."

"Tack on taking out Superman and I think the government will play ball with you," said Bruce. "But I would do some hoop jumping."

Diana looked confused, and Lois smiled.

"They will work with you, but be prepared to do as they ask for a time," she explained.

"Your expressions leave something to be desired," said Diana, renewing her request to Hera for explanation.

Bruce stated in the language spoken on Themyscira that he was sure that her language would be just as confusing to them. His syntax was a little rough, but she understood him well enough.

"Your point is sound," she agreed. "What is the next step?"

"For them to step aside," Lois said. "This will require a woman's touch."

Lois looped her arm through Diana's and they walked a small ways away from the two men. Lois pulled out a phone.

"I need to make a call," she said. "After that, the government will arrive shortly if they aren't already on their way."

She dialed, and the ringing gave way to a voice Diana recognized.

"General Lane," he said.

"General," she said, "it your daughter."

"Cute, Lo," he said. "I am a bit busy. What can I do for you?"

"Well, you're in luck," she said. "I am about to make your life easier."

"Oh?" he asked. "That'd be a first. How so?"

She handed the phone to Diana.

"So, you're a General's daughter?" she asked, giving Lois an appraising look.

Lois held her gaze, "Yes."

Diana smiled, "It shows."

Lois looked a little taken aback but smiled all the same.

Diana held up the phone.

"General," she said, "this is Diana of Themyscira."

"Where are you?" he asked immediately.

She turned to Lois who relayed the information.

"On the roof of the Daily Planet," she said. "I am here waiting for your arrival, or I will go wherever you would like."

"Stay there," he said. "We will be there to pick you up."

Lois gestured and Diana gave the phone back.

"No show of force, General," she said. "It would be crass and you know it."

"I am not about-" he started, but Lois cut him off.

"She just went toe to toe with Superman," she said. "She knows it, and knows that there isn't much better you can throw at her. It would be a waste of both your time."

The General sighed, "I'm listening."

"She is willing to talk," she said. "She has shown what she can do, and I am willing to bet that there are some tricks she hasn't shown you yet. There is a relationship that both of you can benefit from here. Let it happen. No threats, no getting anyone's back to the wall, no burned bridges. Talk."

The General grumbled.

"I will... keep that in mind," he said.

"Good," said Lois, and hung up.

Diana just stared a moment.

"What?" asked Lois.

Diana shook her head, "You should come to Themyscira. You would fit in nicely there."

Lois considered, "I might like that."

Diana laughed and kissed her. Lois looked a little surprised but not displeased.

"I think I just had a college flashback," she said, and Clark looked away, embarrassed.

The men rejoined them.

"I think this is where we go our separate ways," said Bruce.

Clark smiled, "I don't know. A show of solidarity may go over better,"

Bruce frowned, "I don't play well with others."

Diana considered him. She gathered everything she knew about him and drew the only conclusion she could. She turned to Lois.

"Who?" she asked.

Lois nodded, "Both his parents."

Diana's eyes fluttered shut, her face becoming serene. Bruce looked away.

"How long?" she asked.

"He was a child," said Clark quickly.

Diana swallowed, tears in her eyes.

Bruce looked off into the distance.

"Joe Chill," he said. "Arrested for weapon smuggling. There was no evidence that could be brought before a Court of Law. I'll never stop looking. The gun will turn up. Maybe a witness, someone to testify."

Diana looked even more devastated.

"They were murdered," she asked.

Bruce nodded. She turned to Clark, the sympathy on his face total, shot through with undeniable empathy.

"You too?" she asked.

Clark smiled, but there was sincere sadness in it.

"Yes," he said. "Their lives were ended along with every other member of my race when a mad man destroyed my planet. Sadly, he did not live to pay for his crimes."

Both men breathed. Diana nodded.

"You right the wrongs of others because you can't right your own," she said. "I understand."

Both she and Clark turned. There was a flying craft heading their way.

"How will I renew contact with you?" she asked.

Clark nodded, "Just ask for me. I will hear and come when I can."

She looked surprised, "You can hear so well?"

Clark nodded, "I wasn't far from here when I heard you fighting in the Fortress."

She nodded, "Impressive."

She turned to Bruce.

"Pick up a phone," he said. "Call any number. Before the line pick up, say Batman three times. I have your voice analysis. Hang up and I will call you within five minutes."

Diana nodded. She hugged Lois and Clark and clasped hands with Bruce.

"Until next we meet," she said, just before the craft touched down on the roof, blades whirling noisily.

Soldiers began jumping out of the craft. They were armed with weapons, but they didn't seem to be interested in those standing openly upon the roof. Most took up defensive positions, for those about to be getting out of the craft. Those who directed their attention towards Diana and her companions stood with their weapons pointed down, as though prepared to attack only if necessary.

A woman stepped out the craft. She was stout and broad, wearing a business suit and with hair cropped close to her skull. In the space of three paces, Diana could tell she was an utterly ruthless commander, willing to shake your hand or cut your throat with equal care. She was completely careful about her expression, but it was clear that trust came as easily to her as breathing in outer space.

Waller looked at the four standing before her. Her eyes flicked over Lois, then to the rest. They landed on Batman with a nearly amused look, before turning to Superman. She did a just noticeable double take when it came to his change in appearance, but lingered heavily on the cut across his chest, as well as the injury Diana had sustained. Her gaze passed over their faces, the shadows of healing bruises and the subtle changes in symmetry, the only hints at fading swelling.

"I am not surprised to find you all here," said Waller. "'I figured that it is time we spoke.'"


	14. Chapter 14: Ties and Bonds

Batman did not look amused. Waller looked at Superman.

"Do you know who I am?" she asked.

Superman nodded, "You are Amanda Waller, Head of the Meta-human Relations Committee of the United States government."

There was something off about his voice, Lois noted, something different in its cadence, as though in imitation.

Waller frowned, "You have been keeping a much more careful ear on the situation than I suspected."

Superman nodded, "I usually am. You are also Director of the Advanced Research Group Uniting Super-humans."

She smirked, "A.R.G.U.M. just doesn't have the same ring to it."

Superman gave a nod, as in announcing touche.

"Seeing as at least two of us here fall under the label of meta-human," he said, "I can understand why you might want this meeting. What I don't understand is why now? Why not sooner?"

Waller gave absolutely nothing away.

"It wasn't time yet," said Batman, his voice digitized once more. "Diana forced your hand."

Waller didn't even acknowledge that he had spoken.

Diana shook her head.

"Two is, at best, a pair," she said. She looked at Batman and Superman.

"And I think it would be hard to find two that seemed more at odds then you two," she said before turning to look at Waller. "But three... three is a group."

Waller looked Diana in the eyes, as though thinking, calculating.

"How long were you watching?" Batman asked.

Waller was only silent and moment.

"Since Diana went missing this morning," she said. "We had agents monitoring feeds from every major city, and special operatives in Gotham and Metropolis. As soon as the fight broke out, I was on my way here."

Batman's posture shifted, even so slightly, becoming just barely noticeably defensive.

"What is it exactly that you want?" he asked.

Waller smiled, though the expression had little to do with happiness.

"We want in on the ground floor," she said.

Batman stilled.

"I don't understand," said Superman. "What are you after?"

"Me," said Diana.

"What?" Lois demanded, but was completely ignored.

"In just over a year," said Waller, "You went from one to two and now to three. That is some pretty rapid expansion. The government wants representation on your team."

Batman crossed his arms.

"You mean you want someone who can influence any team we should create," he said, "be your voice, on and off the team, whom you have some control over."

Diana nodded, "Someone who isn't a citizen whom you have authority over."

Superman frowned, "Then why not me? I am as much a citizen as she is, technically."

"Because," said Batman, "Admitting that you aren't a citizen would me bringing to light how long you have been on Earth without the government doing anything about it."

He looked at Waller intently.

"That is a card they are not ready to play unless they have to," he said. "It would be bad for both of you."

Diana bowed her head, "I, on the other hand, have only arrived now. I am known to the public exclusively for fighting Superman and winning, in part. I am not a citizen, and if I want to remain here, I have to adhere to their rules or declare myself above and beyond the law of this society."

Waller smiled again, equally mirthlessly.

"We may not be able to do much," she said, "but you will find your time here very hard if you were seen, say, fighting with the military after fighting Superman as well."

"That isn't fair," said Superman, but he shut up as soon as he exchanged a look with Lois.

Diana stepped forward.

"I am willing to negotiate with you," she said.

Before either of the men could say anything, Waller added, "Without either of them."

Superman crossed his arms, "And what if we say no."

Diana raised a hand, "That isn't your decision to make."

He looked like he was going to say more, but she gave him a hard look, and he relented.

"Agreed," said Diana, "but I want Steve there."

Waller narrowed her eyes, "Fine."

She turned to the two men.

"We will meet again," she said with a smile. "Of that, I have no doubt."

Batman dropped his arms.

"Of course," he said. "We have a group to organize, after all."

Waller tilted her head at him.

"It is a novel idea," he said. "We might need to form a group. A foe might some day appear that is beyond any of us. Wish I had thought of it."

Waller narrowed her eyes at him.

"Let's go," she said, and Diana smiled over her shoulder as she entered the craft.

It was a short trip to another location where they changed vehicles. The new one looked sleek and advanced, and flew quickly and stealthily in the oncoming twilight. They arrived in another city near a coastline that Diana had never seen before. Before she could get a good look at it, the windows went opaque and she sighed.

"Play your games," she said to Waller. "If I meant you harm, there is little you can do about it."

Waller breathed, "Believe it or not, Princess, but these actions are universal protocols and have little to do with you."

Diana considered.

"You are right," she said. "I was mistaken."

Waller's face went a little blanker.

"Either you are really good," she said, "or deeply stupid."

Diana smiled, "I can be both."

She felt the craft land.

"Not in my experience," said Waller.

When the doors opened, they were in some kind of hanger. There wasn't a lot of room, since there were about five other similar crafts around them that Diana could easily see, with more likely nearby. They moved quickly to a side corridor, the soldiers guarding them the whole way through. They came to a side door and stepped through into a conference room that looks as though it doubled as a large interrogation room. It was lined with sound insulation with a single one way mirror and was empty save for a long table, six chairs, and Steve.

Diana was beside him and hugging him the moment he was on his feet.

"Are you okay?" he asked, holding her face roughly and looking her over. His eyes fell on her wound.

"What happened?" he demanded, whirling from Diana.

"Easy, Trevor," said Waller. "You could still easily be brought up on subordination charges."

He glared at Waller but stopped talking.

"It was my own fault," said Diana. "I will explain."

"Please do," said Waller, waving a hand. Diana could hear something, something sliding into place, then suddenly nothing. The room was completely contained. She could hear nothing outside of it. She looked at Waller who smirked.

"You aren't the only one with tricks," she said.

Diana sat. Steve sat close to her.

"I am here looking for something," she said.

"What?" asked Waller.

"I cannot say," said Diana, "mostly because I do not fully understand it."

"What do you understand?" Waller demanded.

Diana gestured somewhat futilely, "A material that has magical properties. I don't know how it functions or who produces it or where it comes from."

Waller looks unimpressed.

"Why are you looking for it?" she asked.

"Because Zeus asked me to," said Diana.

"To what end?" asked Waller.

"To stop whoever is doing it," she said. "He believes that the person who is doing this could be a threat."

Waller scoffed, "That isn't a lot of information to act on."

Diana looked plainly at her.

"I wouldn't know," she said. "I was asked to do something by a God. It didn't really occur to me to consider not doing it."

Waller nodded, "Why were you fighting Superman?"

Steve nearly fell out of his chair as his mouth fell open.

"You… what?" he asked.

Diana squeezed his hand, before returning her attention to Waller.

"I was influenced by another God," she explained, "likely Ares."

Waller blinked, "The God of War influenced you to fight Superman?"

"Yes," said Diana.

Waller crossed her arms, "And what exactly is stopping you from being influenced by him again right now and destroying this facility?"

Diana smiled, "Because there isn't any profit in it for him."

Waller's look was enough for Diana to know she should explain further.

"Ares thrives on war, on combat," she said. "Superman and I fighting was likely a boon to him. He does not simply force a mind to do something against its will. He could, but the cost is too high."

Waller nodded, "He needs a high enough return on his investment to act, otherwise, he doesn't. Is that true for all Gods?"

Diana calculated.

"Zeus does as He wills," she said. "He is the Father of the Gods. It might be... detrimental to think He will hold back if it isn't in His best interest."

Waller leaned on the table.

"Cut the crap, Princess," she said. "You are here, but we still aren't on the same page. You want to be here, and we are willing to let you. But what assurances do we have that you are going to play ball?"

Hera whispered the meaning on the words to Diana. Diana nodded.

"What I have is better than assurances," said Diana.

"Oh?" asked Waller.

"I can bring the daughter of a God," she said.

Waller stared, much longer than before, as though tabulating numbers and affects.

"Zeus is your father?" she asked.

"And Hera one of my mothers," she said. "In effect, having me on your side gives you a once removed contact to The Father of the Gods."

Waller considered.

"You are a peer to Superman," she summarized, "and you have a direct line to a Pantheon. What else can you do for us?"

Steve snorted, "Isn't that enough?"

Waller only had eyes for Diana.

She sighed, "I will be your heroine."

Waller raised an eyebrow and smirked.

Diana indicated herself.

"Look at how I am dressed," she said. "It won't take much to sway public opinion that I am yours. Perhaps an address to these United Nations, fronted by your representative, letting them know that I am with you."

Steve looked furious, "That is dangerous close to prostitution. No one owns you. You can't-"

"Done," said Waller. "As such, we will incorporate you into our military structure. You are familiar with being part of an army?"

"Yes," Diana said across Steve's glare.

"Good," said Waller. "You will be given the rank of Sergeant in all field operations, and you are expected to follow orders when you have assigned missions to the letter. Understood?"

"Yes," said Diana.

"Additionally," added Waller, "if there is any group formed by those two 'heroes' and you are a part of it, I want comprehensive and regular reports."

"Agreed," said Diana.

She looked to Steve, "Am I missing something?"

He sighed, "Citizenship, for a start."

She turned to Waller.

"Won't be a problem," she said. "Can we make an offer?"

Diana considered, "Only if you don't expect a yes simply because you asked."

Waller almost smiled.

"Without changing the design much," she said, "we would like to update your uniform."

Diana put a hand to her breastplate.

"My mother made it for me," she stated.

"And it is very nice," said Waller, "but the materials are out of date."

"Not all of them," Steve pointed out. "A few are literal gifts from Gods."

"A fair point," said Waller.

Diana nodded, "If I am to be your heroine, I will look the part. But I'm keeping my mother's armor."

"Do so, by all means," said Waller, standing. "So, what about repercussions?"

Diana raised an eyebrow, "About?"

Waller nodded, "What should happen when one of us doesn't follow through?"

Diana shrugged, "If you do not keep your end of the bargain, you lose me and the connections having me on your side benefits you."

Waller didn't quite glare, "As in a line to Zeus."

"And an advocate for you with Superman and Batman," Diana added.

Waller did glare that time, "And if you don't follow through?"

Diana sighed, "For one, I lose."

"Lose?" Waller inquired.

Diana nodded, "My primary purpose here is to establish an ambassadorial connection with this world, specifically your nation. I gave up my life, my home to do so. It's why I'm here. If I lose your support, I have failed."

Steve frowned, "My guess is that isn't enough incentive for them."

Waller considered, "He's right. Don't get me wrong, it's a good one, but we need something more."

Diana sighed.

"There isn't anything I know of that I can give," she admitted.

Waller shrugged, "Than you will have to come up with something upfront."

Steve looked displeased.

"That isn't all that fair," he bristled at Waller.

"Life isn't fair, Trevor," she said back.

"How about this," suggested Diana, "Should there be spoils of war, I will allow you first claim."

Waller froze.

"And you will keep your friends out of it?" she asked.

Diana shook her head, "I can't claim that. They still possess free will and I won't fight them over it. Anything that should destabilize the balance of power in this world should you possess it is off the table, but I will at least let you examine it for a time, say forty eight hours."

"Done and done," said Waller, standing. "Welcome to the United States."

They all stood and Diana shook Waller's offered hand.

"I'll start putting this all into motion," said Waller. "Do you need anything? Additional medical attention?"

Diana considered.

"I am fine," she said. "I will be fully battle ready in a few hours and completely recovered in a few days. Will you need anything from me in that time?"

Waller's face give just the hint of a superior expression.

"Yes," she said. "We still have those tests that you agreed to. They are a few hours late, but I think we can let that slide. As soon as we have the available vehicle prepped, we will be taking you to a facility where the tests are taking place. Shouldn't be more than thirty minutes."

Diana nodded, "We will be here and ready."

The sound dampening was relinquished, and Waller walked to the door.

"It has been a pleasure working with you," she said, her tone and expression in absolute diametric opposition to her words. As she walked out and closed the door, she revealed John standing behind it.

"What the-" Steve said, managing to keep his voice low enough that Waller didn't catching it.

"You really kicked over a hornet's nest, didn't ya, love," John said as soon as the door was closed.

"Are we ever going to be rid of this guy," Steve mumbled.

"You don't know the half of it," said John. "Things went to hell as soon as I broke you from Ares."

Diana stood, "How so?"

John waved his hand, opening a portal of sorts, showing the world map he had on his table back in the House of Mysteries. The lights were moving and dancing and flowing around.

"Things have changed," he said. "The sources of the power have remained where they are, but the power itself is moving now. It is starting to flow, and I can't track it all. It looks like it is being used or about to be used. I don't know where, but when it does, we will need to be ready to move out."

He paused, as though waiting for something. When Diana didn't say anything, he jestered, "Are you coming or what?"

Diana shook her head, "I'm staying."

John stood there, gaping at her.

"After all this stuff about your quest and all," he said, "you are just going to sit idly by when the opponent you came here to fight is starting to move? Are you daft?"

Steve stood, "Why?"

She looked at him.

"Why not?" he asked.

She shook her head, "I am doing what is right here. I am supposed to establish my place with these people. I made a mistake leaving before. Now, I need to stay here and follow through with what I promised."

Steve nodded, thinking.

"Or," he said, "you could do something else."

She looked at him.

"Not saying you have to," he said, "but I am saying that this isn't your only option. You could ask, see about delaying the tests. You have choices."

Diana looked at him for a long moment, then turned back to John.

"I am staying," she said, then to Steve, "that is my choice."

John straightened.

"Fine," he said. "I'll keep you out of it."

He reached into a pocket and pulled out a coin, tossing it to Steve.

"Should you need me," he said. "Flip it, catching it, call 'John' like you would heads or tails, and slap it against the back of your hand. I will get the message."

He paused another moment.

"I hope I am not wrong about you, lass," he said, and in a puff of smoke, he vanished.


	15. Chapter 15: Trial

Diana couldn't help but feel frustrated. She put down the weights she had been lifting and holding, having maxed out the weight that could fit on the bar, which had damaged the bar irrevocably. Slamming the rent metal down, she turned to the scientist standing there, documenting measurements on a tablet.

"This is pointless," she said. "When will we be finished?"

The scientist showed no sign that she was disconcerted by Diana's nearly hostile tone, "As soon as we have finished the test."

Diana sighed, "I have things I need to do."

"Such as?" the scientist asked. Something about the charged way she asked this, every single time it came up, gave Diana the impression that she might be drawing this out, simply to get Diana to answer this question.

"A quest," Diana said, disgruntled, every single time it was asked.

And, like always, the scientist moved on to another test.

Diana had done everything she could image and then some. She hadn't just raced clocks, she had her acceleration and deceleration measured. She had the speed at which she could change angles and reverse direction tested too. She had her flexibility examined, her range of motion, and just about every conceivable dimension of her body. She had the tensile strength of her skin analyzed, her blood, her hair, her skin, had every conceivable time of medical scan. She had her vision tested, her hearing tested, and was given a barrage of psychological tests which she needed Hera to explain as much as she needed translation. Now, she was having her strength tested, which was pretty pointless since she maxed out every single method they had for measuring limits in strength without even asking for Hera's aid. She had just about had it.

"What more do you want from me?" she asked.

"For you to complete the tests," said the scientist.

"How many more are there?" she asked.

"Not many," she said. Two men wheeled in rolling tables with an assortment of metal bars upon it.

"How many of these can you bend?" asked the Scientist.

"All of them," said Diana.

"Show me," said the scientist.

Diana took each in turn, bending each with as much effort as one would use in opening a bottle of water. Upon the second to last, she tossed it with enough force that it embedded in the floor.

"What more would you have me do?" she cried. "Would you have me leave you my arm? Would that be enough of me that you would be satisfied?"

She turned and started walking out of the testing area.

"We aren't finished," said the scientist.

Diana turned back.

"I care not for your tests anymore," she said. "I have my own ends that need pursuing. I will return when I am able."

The scientist nodded, and then the door opened.

"Time," said a second scientist as he entered the room, followed my Steve.

Diana came up short, "It was a test?"

"Well," said Steve, "yeah."

Diana bowed her head.

"We needed to know everything we could," said the first scientist, sounding much less indifferent as she had before. "Patience was part of that."

Diana wasn't sure if breaking every single piece of the testing equipment would help anything or even adequately convey just how irksome she found this whole thing.

"I am leaving," she said.

"And going where?" asked the second scientist.

She paused, "Am I currently on a mission for Waller?"

"No," he said.

She nodded, taking up her weapons from where she set them aside and turning to Steve, "Show me the way out of here before I make my own."

Steve did.

Diana was practically frantic when she finally made her way out into the halls of the facility.

"That was an entire waste of my time," she said. "I should be out there, doing my mission, and instead, I'm here… plagued by theses stupid…"

"Come on," Steve said. "I get why you are upset, but there wasn't any helping it. You agreed to this."

Diana shook her head, "I didn't know what I was agreeing to."

"Hey," he said, taking her wrist in a way that was more drawing in than pulling. "This world is different from the one you are used to. We don't know everyone here like you did back home, and often, you don't know what you are getting into when you agreed to something. Here, there isn't enough for everyone, not with the way the world is set up, and because of that, people will always, always try to get more than they give. Do you understand why I tried to stop you before?"

Diana finally stopped and considered.

"They are going to try to use me," she said.

He winced, "Are using you, actually."

She realized that was what she didn't like. She had been moved onto a field without knowing the rules of the game. No. That wasn't true, she had moved herself onto that field. And now, she was blaming them for doing it, but this was her doing.

"You are right," she said. "I made the decisions that put me here, and I can't take back what I have done. I can only move forward from here."

Steve considered.

"To where?" he asked.

She thought about it, "I do not know, but the Gods will know."

Steve nodded, "I hope it isn't too far away."

She shrugged, "I will simply fly there directly."

He looked sideways at her.

"Not what I meant," he said smiling. "I meant time, not distance. Though it might take me a little longer to get there."

She looked at him, "You are coming?"

He nodded, "I am with you, Angel. Always will be."

She smiled too.

"I have an idea," he said. "But it might take some time. How about this; we will get a hotel in town, get some food, you can have a bath, and I will see about getting us our ride. Does that work for you?"

Diana breathed deeply for what felt like the first time since she got here.

"That would be lovely," she said.

The two walked together, Diana trusting that Steve could read the signs of this place and know which direction was to an exit. Upon coming into sight on a security station that join them to the outside world, they found themselves intercepted.

"Excuse me, folks," Rick Flag said, stepping out of nowhere to stand between them and the exit. "Where might you be headed?"

"Leave," said Steve, to which Diana was able to discern meant a period of time away from duty.

Flag nodded, considering, "We have a suite available for the ambassador."

Diana considered, and Flag nodded, a degree of empathy in his expression.

"No bugs," he said. "No surveillance. We have the number and we will call if we need anything."

Steve looked to Diana.

"Take us there," she said.

The black SUV picked and Flag took them out into the city. It was different from the others Diana had seen, more green, with buildings that reminded Diana of home, with stone work and columns and not so many skyscrapers. They arrived at a building that was tall, but not overly so, largely made of glass. They went in through an underground parking structure, not exposing them to the street or any outside eyes.

"What is this place?" asked Diana.

"It is what I said it was," said Flag. "This is housing for ambassadors. Granted, some of them are more high value targets and we have to keep them better secured. There is no public access here, but you and Mr. Trevor may come and go as you please."

"Colonel Trevor, Captain," Steve said. Flag smirked.

"The building is secure," said Flag, "from mundane threats. Anything expreme or meta will be outside of our easy deterrence, but I assume you can handle such occurrences yourself."

Diana nodded, getting out.

"You are on the eleventh floor," said Flag. "The door is coded you both your retinal and palm scans. Have a good night."

"Wait," said Steve, but Flag had already driven away.

"Which room on the eleventh floor?" he asked to no one in particular.

"Come on," Diana said smiling. "I am ready to get out of these clothes."

Steve smirked, "If only."

She smiled too.

"I am sorry," she said as they walked to the elevator and Steve pushed the button.

"For?" he asked.

"Please press your thumb to the button longer," a digital voice corrected him, and he pressed his thumb to the button. After a moment, there was a ding and the elevator was called.

"I have been taking you for granted," she said. "If anything, I haven't been appreciating your help very much. I was wrong to dismiss you as much as I have."

He shrugged, "I get it. You lived most of your life in a place where trust would have come naturally, but you also lived your entire life knowing everyone. It is hard to both meet new people and trust them, and you haven't had practice with either."

The door opened, but Diana paused to look into Steve's eyes.

"I trust you," she said.

He looked uncomfortable, "I am not sure you do."

They stepped inside.

"What makes you say that?" she asked.

He smiled at her and took her hand.

"Diana," he said. "I know what I am. I am not nearly the warrior you are, the commander, the empath, the wise person, the lovely woman. But just because I am not any of those things doesn't mean I am less than you."

"I know that," said Diana.

He shook his head, "But you treat me like it. You say that you trust me, but there is a big difference between making your own choices and discounting the words of others."

"I don't discount your words," she said, "not all the time."

He smiled, "Trusting me when it is easy costs nothing. Trusting me when it is hard is something else entirely."

She considered that a moment, "I see what you are saying."

He bobbed his hand, "And?"

She looked over at him, "And what?"

He squeezed her hand, "What do you think about what I said?"

She thought about it.

"I am not sure what to think," she said. "I think I want to trust you, but I don't want to."

He grinned, "That I understand."

The door opened and they found why Flag didn't specify a room.

The elevator opened up onto an entire floor. There was an unlit fireplace opposite the elevator, in a support pillar the same size as the one that house the elevator. The space was open and dotted here and there with plants. The only enclosed areas seemed to be the bathrooms and bedrooms, which there were two of each, to say nothing of the luxurious couches that could easily be slept upon. There was an entertainment center, a nice desk and computer, even an area of weights and a hanging bag, which Steve snickered at.

"What's this?" asked Diana, holding up an envelope. Steve came over and opened it, pulling out a number cards and a small book.

"IDs," said Steve. "Credit cards with a pretty good limit on it. Passport."

He opened it and grinned broadly.

"Well, Ms. Diana Prince," he said. "It looks like you count as an American citizen now."

She smiled as he put the items down and they continued the tour. The kitchen was full and fully stocked, and there was a walk in closet full of clothing from Toni's, including the ones that had been in Steve's car, if Diana was not mistaken. Inside was also the updated uniform.

It was as Waller had said, the same, but different. Leather and studs were replaced with carbon fiber weave and ceramic plate as well as alloys Diana had never seen before. It was very much the same design, but they had not bothered to update anything that was Godmade. Diana considered and decided she liked it. She would wear it next time she was in the field, and decide which she liked better. She would continue to wear it or would at least until what she currently wore was mended.

She looked down at the stab wound in her side. It was bandaged but was likely ready for her to remove the dressing. She began stripping, then turned to see Steve there, looking at her. For the first time, she understood.

"It is because they do not know what you are thinking," she said.

"What?" he asked, looking at the ceiling as she stripped completely.

"Women of this place," she said. "They are modest because they were taught to be such, but they do not know what you are thinking when you look upon them."

He frowned, "I think it is more than that."

She pulled away the bandages, feeling strange for having not been naked in so long.

"How so?" she asked, face him.

He looked into her eyes.

"Just as women are tried to be modest," he said, "men are trained to be entitled. It isn't something we have a monopoly on or anything, but it is much more common for men to be entitled than women."

Diana smiled, "Which is why you took so many liberties with your eyes when first we met."

He smiled too, "I didn't really know you then. I guess, yeah, it is easier to look lustily after women you don't know."

She nodded, "And easier to assume men will do so if you are naked in front of them."

He grinned, "You don't have to be naked."

She laughed, "I am going to bathe."

She was about to ask if he wanted to join her, but before she could, he said, "Are you hungry? I could make us some dinner."

She found that she was starving.

"Sure," she said with a smile. She walked back towards the bathroom, was walking down the short hallway, when she felt something. It was an odd sensation, like lips upon the skin of her neck, but it was deeper somehow, hot without burning, yet completely pleasant. She looked about and found there was nothing in the area that could could have brushed against her in such a way. Absentmindedly rubbing her neck, she continued to the bathroom.

She got into the shower, figuring out the knobs were the same as they were for the sink. She stepped in and let the warm water run over her skin, adjusting it until it was perfect. Something… something was different. She couldn't put her finger on it, but it made her feel tingly for some reason, a warmth seeping into her in a way that was completely different than temperature. There was something about the continuous slide over her skin that made her feel weak and strong at the same time, present in a way that she couldn't remember ever being, but also far away, as though her mind was focused on other things and left her with only her body.

She got out of the shower and found herself face to face with herself, her body, mirrored to her in a way she had never really thought to have. She had seen herself reflected in mirrors at Toni's but this was… different. Standing naked, she looked at her body and found that she enjoyed it. It pleased her in a way both unfamiliar and as though it had never been apart from her. She liked the give of her flesh, the curve of both muscle and form, finding pleasure in it even when it was still but also as it moved with a nubile grace. Even her healing and nearly completely closed wound seemed to entrawl her, tantalizing in that it was sensitive and raw yet called for inspection. She found that she liked looking over her body, letting her eyes rove and linger, feeling something build with in her, something both achingly sweet and a primal dissatisfaction, insisting, begging to be sated.

She found the towel where it was hung, and began to dry herself. The friction was intense, more intense yet somehow the same as ever. It was as though it inspired something new in her, and while she didn't know where to go with her conscious mind, her body understood.

She wrapped the towel around herself. She had intended to head for the closet and to find something comfortable to wear, something soft and warm against her skin, but something smelled delicious and she found herself meandering towards the kitchen to see if she could find it.

Steve was standing before the stove, wearing a white T-shirt and jeans, his coat hanging on the back of a chair. Diana liked that, the domesticity of him finding comfort here. He slouched against the counter next to a stove, omelets cooking before him. The way he lounged, hunched his back, showing the arc of muscle under the thin material of his shirt, left a span of skin between the hems of his T-shirt and jeans which drew Diana's attention in a very inviting way. Her thoughts turned to what that skin might feel like, if he might let her follow the slope of it, and in which direction. It was then that he noticed her.

"Hey," he said casually. "I hope you like eggs. I have some good news. I was about to talk to my superiors and they are working on turning the stealth fighter over to Waller for our use. It will be much easier to get around, and we won't have to worry about pissing anyone off with… being in… airspace of… hi."

Diana had moved closer, her steps slow.

"What is that?" she asked. "It smells…"

His eyes ran over her, the towel, held to her chest in one fist, just long enough to remain decent but only just.

He quickly turned his attention to the staging area for the omelets.

"This and that," he said, distracting himself. "I don't cook much, but eggs I can do well. Do you like… eggs…"

She was standing rather close to him.

"I don't think it is the eggs," she said, almost a whisper.

Her eyes were on his collarbone, just visible in the dint of his muscle. It was fascinating to her, and she found that she wanted to experience it with every means and sense she had, touch and tasty at the forefront of her thoughts.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

Her breathing was a bit rough, as though she wasn't getting enough air. The bits of his skin she could see were her entire world, and she wanted to see more.

"I…" she breathed, "I'm not sure."

She realized that inviting smell, the scent that had drawn her here, was him.

She reached out, carefully, almost as though too much at once would be overwhelming. She touched his collarbone. It was firm, for him, his body of this world, but still strong from the time he had spent on Themyscira, hard. His muscle was firm, his body so very warm, so real, so present, so here, so desired to her.

His head was close to hers, their breaths mingling. She could feel it upon her skin, the warmth of him, the significance of sharing nearly the same space heavy on her. She felt the pull and push of the air, the rhythm, the give and take, and suddenly, he was too far away from her.

Her hands found the top of his jeans, fingertips pushing down and in, curling about the hem as she drew him in. He shuddered and pulled his hands back, the towel kept from falling only by the press of their bodies together.

"Diana," he said quietly, half a plead, half a sigh.

"You feel…" she murmured, feeling his lips stir the air about hers.

Diana knew what a kiss was. She couldn't even begin to count the number of times she had kissed her friends, and others besides. But she quickly discovered that what she knew as not dissimilar from looking at the sea and thinking she knew how to sail.

His lips were soft and moved well, and it was as though lightning struck through her, arching to every extremity through the contact of his mouth to hers, redoubled through every point in which he touched her. His hands found her face, giving her the sensation that she might fly apart should he not hold her to him, maintaining the lock of their lips. It seemed as though what she was feeling was all too much and yet not enough at the same time. She wanted more, faster, and yet there couldn't be more than this, as though this superlative couldn't be topped and yet it was.

She found herself on the counter, only recalling in hindsight that Steve had lifted her there. It afforded her the perfect height, just taller than him, and she entwined her legs around him as her hands found his hair and neck and back. He held her to him, his arms strong. Diana liked the feel of strong arms, even arms not so strong as hers. His mass, his bulk, his slightly larger form, his body to hers was a balm that both soothed and invigorated.

"Diana," he tried again, as though from even further away than before, the words of his logical mind having had to come far to reach them. "Are you sure this is what you want?"

Diana felt something. It was a powerful feeling, similar yet different to the feeling that sang in her now. This pleasure, this succulent abandon, had a price, one that she must pay in words, as did he. There was vulnerability to those words, letting another in, and without it, this act would be hollow, dishonest, without true consent. It scared her, this wanting, but Diana was brave.

"I want you," she said, loosing the towel between them, opening herself to him.

"Do you want me?" she asked, smiling, as though there was doubt. It made her feel powerful and feminine and desired all over again.

In answer, he cast his lips upon her, again and again, all along and down her, and her pleasure was renewed and redoubled and unrelenting. Racked with ecstasy, she clutched his shirt his shirt, pulling it from him so forcefully, it did not remain intact. He fell back with the surprise of it, sent toppling to the floor all the more so by her following form, coming to rest astride his hips. She toyed with him, using his torso as a tool to torment him with tactil titillations until his only recourse was to work around her as best he could to divest himself of the rest of his clothing.

To her surprise, he was able to stand and catch her up at the same time. Dense as she was, he was strong, and her form was well within his magnitude to move freely. She felt herself seem to stretch into all that implied, reveling in the delights she might enjoy and the freedom that he might, at times, be able and willing to fight beside her.

She was thrilled as they all but fell together on the couch, and what followed was the most intense, passionate, and pleasurable hours of both their lives to date. Two broken couches later, they found themselves on the floor, half swathed in the small blankets that backed one of the couches, though still unabashed nude, Steve's head on Diana's breast, him positively spent and dozing.

"Well," he mumbled, "so much for not having sex with me."

Diana laughed, but something niggled at the back of her mind, some notion that she could neither find nor care to know.

"That was…" Diana whispered, "not what I thought it would be like."

"Oh?" he asked, lazily running a few fingertips up and down her bare leg. "What did you think it would be like?"

"I don't know," she admitted. "It was as though there was some sort of disconnect in my mind, in my body, as thought where I was was completely divorced from where I am now until now. Do you understand?"

"I think so," he said. "Really, I think that is what everyone's first time is like."

"Really?" she asked. "You had no interest in sex before you had it?"

He murmured in the negative.

"No, it wasn't like that," he said. "I wanted sex constantly, even before I had it. It was like… it was the answer I had been looking for."

She laughed, "You are talking about love, not sex."

He shrugged, "Before I met you, I didn't understand that there was a difference. Now, I know there is one."

He looked up at her, "What is that?"

"Hmmm?" she asked, trying to follow his eyes.

"Your neck," he said. He reached for her, and she was suddenly shot through with pleasure and ready to have him again.

"By the Gods!" she moaned. "What did you do?!"

"I just touched you," he said. "You have a mark. I don't think I did that…"

She reached for him but he pulled back.

"Whoa," he said. "That will not lead to anything helpful right now. What is that?"

He looked as closely as he dared. It looked like a lip print, yet slightly raw, just this side of burned, pink and just noticeably raised.

"I want you," she said, leaning towards him again.

"Wait," he said, something in his features sinking. "Diana?"

He took her arms, and looked deep into her eyes.

"Oh, crap," he said. She pulled him down, but he managed to roll out from under her before she could throw a leg over him.

"I will be right back," he said. He was two steps from his pants before his lagging leg was pulled so forcefully that he went down. She hadn't bothered standing and had crawled to him faster than he could walk. He just managed to snag a pant leg before she dragged him back to her.

"I said, I want you," she said, her eyes bright with lust and something else.

"God," he said, digging in a pocket, "I hope I am right."

He flipped it, just catching it as she climbed atop him. Slapping it to the back of his other hand behind her back, he called, "John! A little help here!"

"Well, now," drawled a Scouse voice. "Happy to help, boyo. Happy to help indeed."

"Not exactly a consent adult here," said Steve. "I think a God has her."

John came up short, "Nine circles o' hell! You ain't jokin' lid!"

He threw his hands far out and began his two layered chanting.

"John," Diana whispered, but her voice was not her own. She looked over her shoulder at him suggestively, her expression wanton and entirely not her own.

"There's room for one more," she moaned, and John almost lost focus. Slamming his left open palm down on top of his right fist, he caused a circle to enclose her.

"No!" She cried roughly, slamming against it. A crack appeared in the open air, as though a cylinder of invisible glass held Her, only visible when it was shot through with a spider web of near breaking. John's chanting reached a crescendo and he slammed a palm into the cylinder. It exploded away from the strike, maintaining its shape yet dispersing like blown smoke. Something pink and vaguely human shaped was thrown out of Diana too before she fell, Steve just barely catching her.

"Diana," he said, holding her as best he could while he eased her to the floor. "Diana, are you okay?"

"What happened?" she asked, dazed.

"Aphrodite," said John, turning his attention to Steve. "If you're gonna get tossed by a Goddess, there are worse, but there are a few much, much better."

He turned his attention skyward, he whispered, "Oh, don't be insulted. You know you're bad."

His words add a suggestively teasing lilt to them.

Steve only had eyes for Diana.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

"Yes," she said, finding her feet and standing, then shifting her weight experimentally. "Oddly sore, but fine."

"Well in, la!" said John with a grin.

Steve ignored him, "What do you remember?"

She seemed to spend some time in her own thoughts, "Everything, I think."

He seemed relieved but also crestfallen.

"It wasn't you," he said.

She considered. It was then that Steve realized that they both were naked and being openly ogled. He grabbed his pants.

"Good on you, mate," said John with an appraising eye. "I'd be happy to take mine off. Even the score as it were. I wouldn't want you to feel uncomfortable."

Steven glared as he shoved his legs into his pants.

"I…" Diana finally said. "I am not sure what happened."

"The Goddess of love and sexuality happened," said John.

"Not that," said Diana. "Up until this point, I haven't ever been sexually aroused before."

"Ever?" asked John.

She shrugged, "I am sand, imbued into life by my parents, two thirds of which are deities. If even I could have children, they would be what? Half to one sixth god? What point is there to having a sex drive it there is no possibility of children?"

Both men scoffed, but John spoke up first.

"Sex," he said. "Think about it. What you had just now, did it have anything to do with having a child?"

Steve looked suddenly stricken.

"Can you…?" he asked, and she raised her arms and shoulders in an emploring way that did interesting things to her chest that caught the attention of both men.

"It hasn't come up," she said. "Even if it had, I have no way of knowing without trying. I have had a cycle, and that could mean anything. Women who had finished theirs had it renewed once they settled on Themyscira."

John considered.

"Well," he said, "I can't imagine the Gods keeping you from bearing children. They bugger anything that sits still long enough and have too much fun with whatever comes out to keep you barren. However, they might have put a block on you, a sort of lockdown to keep you from jumping in with some kidda before they wanted."

Diana nodded, "And Aphrodite unlocked it?"

John shrugged, "It could be possible that you were never meant to have the desire until it was inspired by a God or Goddess."

Steve frowned, "So, what, it would be like not being able to get it up without a God giving you the go ahead?"

John rummaged around for a pack of smokes.

"That's just one possibility," he said, walking to the balcony door and opening it before lighting up.

Steve looked at her, "Was… was what we did… should I have not…?"

Diana found herself taking his hands in hers. She kissed the back of one.

"No, Steve," she said gently. "Nothing I did was coerced in me, up until you touched my neck. I think She realized that she wouldn't be able to get much more power out of me if she didn't force the situation."

"Of course," said John. "Power! She was in it for the power. She was effectively touched off a nearly full Goddess to go all lusty bird and…"

He looked over the devastation they had wrought.

"…at least four times?"

Both looked quietly pleased.

"Well," he said, throwing aside his butt, "she got a nice bit of juice outta that one."

"But why?" asked Steve. "Why do it at all? Why now and not before?"

John closed his eyes and went still.

"Oh, geg out, you soft muppet!" he cried to himself. "I shoulda known!"

He turned to them, "It was a distraction, and a right good one. I was going to head your way before you called. Something it going down in Kasnia."

He waved his hands again, and once again the image of the map appeared.

"Whatever is going down in Kasnia," he explained, "they wanted to keep you out of it."

"They?" asked Steve. "They who?"

"Ares and Aphrodite," said Diana.

"They're working together?" he asked.

"They're lovers," said John. "Adulterers, actually, but who in their right mind would marry the Goddess of Love and Sex and not expect that she would have a consort or five?"

Diana nodded, "So, Ares does something on the other side of the world to gain power, and she does something here too to gain her own power."

"Are they building up for something?" asked Steve.

"Doubtless," said John. "We need to move."

Steve huffed, "Okay, let's go, oh ye master of teleportation and trips around the world."

John shrugged, "Can't."

Steve looked flabbergasted.

"Travel like that you can only do at the best of times," he said. "I have to store up a debt of favors if I want to get myself anywhere in a hurry, and I can't just use those on a whim. I can get myself there now if I need to, but all three ain't happenin'."

Diana nodded, "The plane?"

John looked between them.

"It only seats two," Steve said. "It will take us less than four hours, but we can get there."

John nodded, "All the better. It will take me about that to get there for free. Mind you, I might be able to throw a thumb in Ares' eye, but I'm not much for God fightin'. I'm more the outsmart sort."

Steve nodded, "I need to get things prepared for the flight."

He turned to Diana, "You should get dressed."

She smiled, "Why? Greeks went to war as I am all the time."

Steve grinned back, "That would be a sight to see. I am sure more than one man would willing go to his death-"

"Will you two get a room!?" said John. "Oh wait. You already did that! G'wed!"

Steve pulled out a phone and started making preparations. Diana looked at her wound. It was almost healed shut but still tender. She could fight just fine. She retrieved her gear. Donning her new armor which fit her more comfortably than she would have thought possible, she returned.

"You ready for it?" asked Diana, settling her armaments in their proper places.

"For what?" Steve asked.


	16. Chapter 16: War

The flight was long, but it was quicker than Diana could have done on her own, even with Hermes' guidance. They made it into the Balkans in just over three hours, but given the time zone changes, it was nearly twelve hours later in Kasnia. The morning was bright and clear.

"What are we looking for?" asked Steve.

Diana breathed, and listened and reached out.

"Artemis," she whispered. "By your will."

Her head pointed.

"Our quarry is there," she said.

They headed deep into the country, full of high mountains. Within minutes, their destination was clear.

Smoke billowed from a village.

"Wait," said Steve as they approached. "That's…"

They pulled around the pillar to find another further down the valley. Between the two was trench in the forest, felled trees and pitted earth and…

Bodies lay about. Overturned vehicles, troop transports, soldiers, and civilians.

"No," Diana whispered as the line continued. Two more villages, and a town. Fires burned, trees and building alike. And finally, they came to the battle.

A spot before the frontline of an army was exploding, almost constantly. A line of retreating forces were standing as long as they could, firing their weapons constantly, at a single spot. But, for reasons Diana could not see through the fire and smoke and destruction, the spot they were attacking seemed to be progressing, constantly and without any concern for the amount of damage that was leveled against it. Suddenly, one of the tanks in the line seemed to stall. They may have been stuck, it was hard to tell, but the spot that everything was firing at came closer, and suddenly, the tank flipped end over end, down the line, taking several more tanks and vehicles with it. The firing stopped just long enough for the air to clear.

It was… massive. It looked like a man constructed all in dark metal, but it was proportioned as a God, more than twice Diana's height and nearly three times as wide. It moved steadily, and something about it reminded Diana of the automata that she had fought in the north, but where those were smaller and quick, this one seemed to be simply strong and unyielding.

"That is where the power went," said Diana. "That thing needs to be destroyed!"

Steve nodded, "I am right there with you!"

He strafed the thing, firing weapons the likes of which Diana had never seen before. Beams of light struck the behemoth, but that didn't even slow it down, nor did the track a beam furrowed in the land around it, bursting into clouds of dust almost too thick to see. He fired a series of clustered explosive missiles as it, and as soon as the smoke and debris fell out of air, revealing the crater, it was clear that it was going to take more than firepower to stop the thing.

Steve brought the jet in and set it to hover. Turning off a few safety failsafes, he opened the copit.

"Go!" he cried, and Diana was in the air.

Diana leaped and landed before the thing, shaking herself out. She had been frustrated and pent up after her so called tests. She was ready.

Having learned her lesson with Clark, she didn't hold back nearly as much as she had with him. From where she had landed between the monstrosity and the line of vehicles, she leaped, clasping hand over fist and double hammer striking the head of the metal gollum. The blow resounded through her and it in equal measure. The thing bowed under the blow, but Diana could see no damage on the metal itself. She didn't let up, striking it with a series of hard, straight bows to the body before leapeding and grabbing the shoulder, leveraging herself around to knee it in the chest.

Suddenly, without regard for her at all, the vehicles opened fire once again. She had little time, but she was able to flip herself behind the thing, keeping her from the bulk of the weapons. She landed back to back with it before bending back, grabbing it around the middle as best she could, then whipping back upright the hurling it back the way it had come before leaping upwards out of the way of the weapons fire. She landed out of the fray, looking herself over. She had been shot several times, though the larger rounds had fragmented against her. According to scientist early that day, her body could distribute a massive amount of energy, so the large, blunt forces were easily distributed about her while small, fast, or just sharp implements could do nominal damage to her. She gritted her teeth and sucked the few rounds out that she could get to with her mouth that were still in her. One required her to dig it out, which she did quickly with two fingers, one of the more painful things she had endured since she had come to this world. Once they were out, her wounds stopped bleeding rather quickly. She inspected her middle and found the wound there from her own sword much improved as well as reopened. She would have to ask Batman for some of that medic spray the next time she had a chance.

She looked back to the battle and found that the situation was getting worse, and quickly. The behemition was destroying the vehicles faster than it had before. Where it had been taking slow, almost patient steps before, it was moving noticeable faster, marching to each in turn and rending them quickly and easily. Some vehicles and infantry that were using transports for cover were not openly retreating, stopping now and again to fire weapons at it. Diana needed a new tactic.

"Hermes," she prayed, taking to the air. "Athena, be it your will."

She recognized the commanding officer, in a vehicle towards the rear of the formation. Flying there, she landed.

"What witchcraft is this?" he cried. Pulling his sidearm, he found himself firing into the air, for Diana had closed with him and had hoisted his arm skyward before he could pull the trigger.

"Commander," she said in his language. "I come bearing aid."

He scoffed and looking her up and down.

"Aid?" he huffed. "We need no slut witch's aid! We will destroy the metal beast without your help."

Diana was nearly staggered. Never had she beheld such animosity towards her, such disdain. Ares had being angry, and rightfully so, but he hadn't seemed to care enough to actually hate her. He…

Diana felt Him then. She recognized it now. War was all about them. It fueled them, made them quick to anger, making the choice to fight easier. That was when it clicked in her mind.

"You're feeding it!" she cried.

The commander and his company looked at her with equal parts disgust and dismissal, but she pressed on anyway.

"The creature is a weapon of the God of War," she said. "Fighting it only makes it stronger."

He laughed, "And not fighting it will leave us dead. Leave this place, you ignorant, unmarried child girl!"

Diana looked at him in fury. He just grinned at her in vindictive victory.

She vanished. He was confused, yet jumped at the sound of crumpling metal. The vehicle they had arrived in, which had been resting behind them, was now bent double, her fist in the middle of it. She was now still, her blow landed, but the vehicle was still sliding along the ground. When it met uneven earth and stone, it flipped and rolled, left looking nothing like the method of conveyance it once had been. She turned at him, and glared. He took his staff and retreated, unabashedly.

Diana took to the air and looked about, unsure exactly what she should do. She had never attempt to fight anyone without fighting them. So, she paused. Reaching within her heart to the very essence of War's opposite, she breathed, "Aphrodite, if it pleases you…"

In a moment, she saw him. He was a young man, maybe the youngest on the field. He was scared to the point were reason had nearly left him, but he stood his ground as best he could, still fighting, still standing strong. He knew what was behind him, what should be destroyed should he fall. He refused, despite knowing that he would die, to run.

Diana dove down and wrapped him in her embrace, pulling him away just as the tank that would have claimed his life landed where he had been standing, just under cover of the hood of an already totaled jeep. He cried in shock, not fear, as she carried him just beyond the battle. Setting him down, he practically fell to sit upon the ground, his rifle in his lap, exhausted.

He finally looked up at her, smiling down upon him. His surprise and awe slowly turned to dismay and something close to regret.

"I have died," he said. "I have died and an angel has come to take me to the beyond."

He looked at her more closely.

"Angels are American?" he asked.

She laughed, "Not in my experience, though I am no angel nor American. I am simply an ambassador in their name."

He looked uncomfortable.

"You should not be here," he said. "Americans and their officials are not welcome in my country. They will arrest you and do who knows what to you. Women have… died horribly in prisons here."

She smiled more broadly, sitting beside him.

"I would not allow such at thing to deter me," she said. "I am here to stop that thing, but I cannot."

He looked down at the fighting from the hill where they sat.

"No one can," he said wistfully. "It is unstoppable. It is an Annihilator and will lay waste to all in stand before it."

She looked down with him.

"Where did it come from?" she asked.

He scuffed the dirt what his hand.

"We are at war," he said. "These northern dogs forced us from our homes! We want the land that is rightfully ours. But when the fighting broke out, it was worse than I had expected. I joined our righteous cause with several of my boyhood friends, and I am the only one left."

He shuddered, curling into himself, but Diana got the impression that his posture was more protective than injured.

"I do not wish to tell you how they died," he said. "I can barely accept keeping their fates in my own head. We looked like we might have a chance at winning the war, when the northerners pulled their forces back and released that thing instead. We have done everything we can and it hasn't made a scratch. There is nothing that can stop it."

Diana picked her words carefully.

"There is a way," she said. "Not an easy one. It requires faith."

He looked sad and a little scared.

"Then I am not the person you should be talking with," he said. "I am a coward and have little trust in my heart."

She bumped her shoulder into his.

"I do not believe that is true," she said. "I saw you fighting, despite everything."

He snorted, "I only feared what people would think of me should I fail."

She looked at him a moment.

"You are lying," she said simply.

He looked nonplussed.

"You have been told you were worthless your whole life," she said. "Have you not?"

He looked at the ground between his feet.

"Hearing that every day," she said, "in word or deed has convinced you that you are not worth much. It is understandable that you would not recognize truth bravery when you saw it, and would make excuses or justifications to prove what everyone has said about or to you, if only in hopes that people would stop telling you that you are worthless because you are agreeing with them."

The young man looked more than a little abashed.

"I am just a man," he said. "A boy, really. What could I possibly do? How could I matter, when compared to everyone else in the world?"

She took her face in her hand.

"Whatever you can," she said.

He breathed.

"You know what price is to be paid," she went on, "should you fail."

She looked back the way the Annihilator had come, the demolished homes, the bodies of the dead.

"What can I do?" he asked, and this time he sounded resolved.

"Stop fighting," she said.

He looked confused, "What?"

She pointed, "If you fight it, you give it power. It is a machine of Ware that feeds on War. Stop warring with it."

He shook his head, "It will surely kill us all."

She looked into his eyes.

"You are afraid," she said.

He laughed humorlessly, "The sky is also blue, you know."

She grinned, "Because you are afraid, it will win, He will win. That is the price of war. War only begets more war, so it will either continue indefinitely, or one side will win. If you fight, you will die. If you do not, you might live."

He considered.

"You want us to surrender?" he asked.

"No," she said. "Just throw down your arms. It is powered by combat. Without it, it will stop."

He considered a moment more, but only a moment.

"What can I do?" he asked.

She stood and offered him a hand. He took it.

"What is your name?" she asked.

"Andrei," he said.

She smiled, "Of course it is."

She landed at one end of the line, at his instruction. He landed and promptly threw down his rifle. A jeep flipped towards a group of soldiers and Diana came forth and caught it. Andrei ran to his fellow soldiers, calling many of them by name. He took guns from their hands when he could and they would let him and he guided them away, explaining in short only when not doing so would keep them there instead of running clear of the fighting. Diana's tactics remained defensive, pulling men back and preventing them from being attacked when she could. She moved down the line, but after a time, caught up Andrei and flew to the other side of the line.

"What are you doing?" an officer cried, seeing the two of them.

"We are getting the men to safety," said Andrei. "If we stay here, we are all going to die."

"You are a coward!" the officer cried. "Come back and fight!"

Andrei turned and looked the officer dead in the eye. He was not angry or boasting or even imposing. He was simply unyielding.

"I am not afraid," said Andrei, and more than a few men standing about could see it. He turned, not saying another word, and assigned two men to carry out another injured one.

"It isn't slowing down," commented Andrei after several more minutes.

"We need to start dealing with the tanks," said Diana.

Nearly half the force that Diana had seen when they had arrived were dead. Diana was about to start on the tanks, when she saw the worst thing she could imagine.

"Reserves!" she cried, pointing a column of vehicles moving towards them.

"I have it," Andrei cried. "Save the men in the tanks, please!"

She did.

The last few tanks were about to be overturned or worse by The Annihilator. Diana landed taking the full brunt of one of its blows to save the men inside time to back away. They were retreating, but as they did, they went to fire again. Diana, resigned, took that blow as well. The shell threw her to the ground, and she had to take a moment to reset her shoulder in its socket, slamming it into the ground before rising again.

Andrei gathered a few able bodied men with him, and they stood against the forces coming on, literally putting themselves in harms way to stop them.

"Get out of the way!" cried the Officer in the lead car. "We must destroy that thing!"

"We cannot," said Andrei. "The only way to defeat it is to stop fighting it."

"What cowards' notion are you spewing!" the Officer cried.

"We aren't even slowing it down," cried the other soldier beside Andrei. "The more we fight it, the more it just keeps coming."

"Get back to your positions," cried the Officer.

"Did you not hear I said?" Andrei inquired firmly. "If we continue to fight, we will die."

Diana was almost done getting soldiers to safety. Two injured men were cowering behind the remnants of a jeep, too injured to do more than crawl. She caught tank that was hurled at them, the last one that hadn't been retreating. Upside down, she held it, the men opening the hatch, but getting out slowly. She couldn't set the tank down easily, not with the men beneath it, and she could put the tank down quickly what with the men inside it, which is why there was nothing she could do as the Officer pulled out his side arm and shot Andrei three times in the chest.

"Anyone else want to retreat?" he demanded, training his weapon on the other men. To his surprise, they didn't cower. They looked shocked and hurt and angry. The Officer was concerned as they turned their attention on him, but not as concerned as he should have been.

"You!" thundered Diana, and suddenly the Officer was pulled backward so hard that his sidearm simply fell where it had been. He hit the side of his jeep with enough force to move it, though he did not cry out. Diana grabbed him but the collar, lifting him into the air. Raising a fist, she prepared to strike with a blow no mortal man could withstand. But then the man smiled, and Diana stilled. She knew that smile.

Suddenly, the Officer was not hanging in the air, but standing, His feet firmly planted on the ground, despite being held at her arm's length, nearly upward. The jeep was shoved away with the sudden appearance of armor clad limbs, dark and sinister, so much like the Annihilator behind him. His helm was under His arm, a sword at His side, and spear at His back. In His free hand was a God's weapon, something that was hard to tell its exact make. It seemed at times a single handed warhammer, but whose head was of flame, but it also appeared to be a short sword with a guttering tip or a red hot fired branding iron. It was a torch, but more, and deadly, at the same time.

"Flee!" Diana cried, giving the soldiers all the time she could before Ares struck.


	17. Chapter 17: Adversary

Diana landed further from Ares than He was from the Annihilator, simply in a different direction. She landed well, but the blow had winded her. She kept her feet, and was preparing to retaliate when she saw two things. One, Ares was waiting. He didn't need to fight her; the Annihilator was marching towards her. And she couldn't fight Him, for if she did, she would simply be powering His weapon. She was forced to do nothing, and Ares could do anything.

"You see?" He asked. "That is how battles are truly one. I am the victor just as soon as I take the field."

He turned, sliding His helm into place and caught the nearest man in His now empty hand. With a superior and manic smile, He crushed to man into the earth with as much effort of crusting an insect under boot. He shuddered, as though taking intense joy in something that had long been denied Him.

"Ah," He sighed. "To take another's life with my own two hands. Is there a more worthwhile pastime?"

He whipped His brand around and touched off a blaze that eat through three men before they fell in ash. He laughed, pulling up His spear and whirling it through the air, cutting down eight men in nearly half as many blows before the tip clanged, knocked aside by Diana's shield.

He laughed, "As little sport as cutting down these men might be, I love it still! Nearly as much as I would sticking it to you."

He gave a leer and reversed the grip on His spear, holding it high to drive in or hurl while holding the torch in His offhand to perry or attack quickly. Diana rolled her shoulders, knocking her sword to her shield to loose any particles or debris from it. Cracking her spine and neck, she set her guard and found her stance.

"I have waited a long time for this," she said. "You have done more harm to me and mine than I can stand. Now, you have killed my friend who was just trying to do the right thing."

He guffawed rudely, "What of it? You cannot kill me. And even should you hold me, The Annihilator will not stop, even should you end all war in this country. And, you would need to end all wars, everywhere forever to stop me."

Diana smiled.

"You are right about one thing," she said. "I cannot defeat the Annihilator through means of war."

She went straight for Ares. He rolled his eyes, prepared for her subverse attack, but even as she leapt at Him, she turned aside, so quickly and abruptly that she had no choice but to take a cut across her arm from His spear before she landed before the Annihilator. It paused in its march towards the nearest men, who were now retreating in earnest, pulling away the injured and he lamned. He seemed to sense her, stopping and standing tall in place. Drawing back, it prepared to drop it fists down upon her with the fill range of motion and power at its disposal, and in that moment, her whispered prayers to the Goddesses Hera and Athena, Diana struck.

She didn't strike with sword or shield. She didn't even strike The Annihilator. Instead, she struck her own bracers, right onto left. Her shield arm proffered, having pulled back her right as though for a sword blow, she struck the bracer from her right to her left, angled so as to deflect the blow. So perfectly was the strike reflected and so mighty was her own strike, the concussive force resulted in pressure kinetic wave that lanced into The Annihilator with enough energy to cast it skyward and away.

"No!" Ares cried, just in time to see the weapon He had so enjoyed a moment before was now effectively out of play. With such a blow laid upon it, it may very well land time zones away, in ocean rather than on land.

Diana turned, a grin upon her face.

"Come, Brother," she said. "Let us spar."

Skating on her hip, Diana dove feet first between Ares' legs. She caught His blow on her shield in passing, twisting sideways as she went. Once between His feet, she kicked His ankle with one foot before striking His opposite calf with her sword then finally kicked his knee with her other foot. He slumped almost to his knee under the series of blows, using His bent stance to twist around, swinging His spear in a powerful arch at her. She bowed herself, pushing off the ground with her whole body, into the air above the point of His spear, swinging her sword around and catching its steel upon the tip. What might have looked like a pointless attempt at a parry was actually a way for her to alter her trajectory in the air, preventing herself from being in the path of His brand when his offhanded swing came in the opposite direction. Rolling through the air, she landed on her feet and ran at His back. He whipped His brand at her, and after dodging a horizontal and diagonal strike, she forced His third strike into the ground by adding force to His weapon by way of arcing her shield around the blow, moving with it. Once the brand was embedded in the dirt, she kickflipped around the shield she used as a leverage point, arcing around His body to land upon His massive forearm. Then, swinging with the full of her might, she slammed her sword down hard into the crease between His couter and His vambrace, right into the inside bend of His elbow.

He howled, pulling His arm back, but couldn't pull off her blade for she was tilting from the same arm and couldn't be so easily removed. She laid her shield around her body, protecting her sword side just as His spear crashed against her. Only by withdrawing the sword was she able to keep it, and she tumbled off and He stepped back, the brand relinquished, stuck, but not going out. Taking His spear in both His hands, He lunged after her, making trusts and sweeping blows that she duck and blocked as best she could. Then, with a well times stab, He managed to slide the spear between her arm and the shield, pulling it off her arm to go spinning to one side. Once the shield was away, He struck a fierce blow to the side of her face, momentarily stunning her. Grabbing her by a fistful of hair, He held her up to eye level.

"I am War, you dull creature!" He roared. "You will never-"

Twisting against her gripped hair, she turned, whipping her sword neatly through the air, and through the wrist of the hand that held her.

Landing with one knee bent, the sword held out beside her, the hand falling behind her, Diana smiled as she faced him.

Suddenly, there was a volley of gunfire. The plane Steve flew strafed the God of War, now that Diana was clear. Ares spat. Hefting His spear, He smirked at her.

"That is for your pride," He condemned her, and threw.

Diana watched in horror as the spear flew. Even if the plane could not be seen, His aim was true, and in an instant, the cockpit was skewered.

"Steve!" Diana cried in horror. She flew at the plane as it wheeled in the air, wavering this way and that as it began to flutter to earth. She was abruptly grabbed by the ankle, then smashed down to earth, once, twice, three times, her sword spinning away. She grabbed by the entire head and smashed down again, two more times, barely conscious, floundering.

"You will not beat me," He whispered. "You are nothing."

Diana's single exposed eye rolled, her hands knocking her hips as her body dangled from his bolder like hand.

"If you would beg for your life," He said, "I would hear it now."

She pulled her hand to one side, quickly. As she did, the golden braid at her belt unfurled. Contrary to how such a cord should function, it slinked down and around His ankle. With a might pull, He tipped over backwards.

"I am Diana of Themyscira," she said, pulling Him through the air, up and down again into the ground, as He had done her.

"Princess of the Amazons," she cried, slamming Him down with double furiosity.

She flew upwards, pulling him to full speed before turning, rotating Him around as she flew downers with all speed. Ares cratered with the intensity of the impact.

"I beg of no one," she said. Turning, she headed straight for the plane. She was too late.

The wreckage was burning and crumpled, the spear still sticking out from the side of the plane. Before she even got there, she could see the blood rolling down the shaft, having made its way through the haul.

"Steve," she cried, ripping the cockpit canopy away. Steve was slumped, head down, the spear in and through his side. With a precise blow, she severed the spear shaft where it entered his body. He cried out, and Diana found tears in her eyes, both of empathy and relief. He was not yet dead.

"Hold still," she cried, praying to all the Gods and Goddess that he might be spared. Again, she parted the shaft from him and eased him out of the burning wreckage. He gasped and writhed against the pain, but she set him down.

"Steve," she whispered, his eyes looking everywhere, as though seeking out a thing to free him of his agony or a place he might go where he might not feel pain.

"Steve," she said, again, stroking his face. His eyes found hers, and something seemed to ease in him.

"Did we get him?" he asked.

Diana understood that look. His face was pale, his eyes sharp but distant. Already, his blood was pooling under him.

"Yes, Steve," she said, tears falling. "We got him."

He looked at her, blinking slowly.

"Good," he said. "That's good."

He shifted, as though trying to be more comfortable, but it only made things worse.

"Be still," she said.

He looked at her face, catching on to her tone for the first time.

"Oh," he said, his voice tremulous. "Oh. Damn it. Diana, I am so sorry."

She looked at him in disbelief.

"What have you to be sorry about?" she asked.

He touched her face.

"I…" he said. "I wish we could have had more time."

She smiled at him, "It was enough. More than enough. I will never forget…"

He smiled, "I wish… there could… have been… more…"

"I…" he whispered, going progressively more still, "love…"

He never got to finish.

Diana, bowing over the only man she had ever loved, kissed his forehead.

"And I love you, Steve Rockwell Trevor."

Standing, she turned.

Ares had stood again. Taking the sword from His hip, he faced her.

"Let's finish it," He sneered.

Diana had had enough. She closed her fist, and her sword seemed to appear into it by sheer will. Planting her feet, she drew the sword back. Drawing on all the power she could gather from her Gods and Goddess, she leaped, she flew, her singular thought and will of only plunging that blade through His heart. And then, everything vanished.

It reminded her of the moment she walked into the Underworld Sanctum, as though she had passed into a new place, from which sound and light did not pass between. Unlike that passage before, this one grated at her consciousness, scouring her thoughts and scoring her mind as she moved from one to the other.

The new place was strange. Sound didn't resonate correctly, as though the air was different from any air she had ever felt. It seemed dim, despite the many yellow and orange burning fires here and there and veins of golden lava forking throughout. The entire space seemed perfectly hewn from a single piece of black stone, cut into perfection. It took her some time to figure out what she was seeing, as though her eyes were having trouble focusing correctly. She quickly realized that she was standing in a forge.

"Well, well, well," He said. "You were about to kill my brother. We couldn't have that."

Diana turned, and beheld Him.

He limped His way around His anvil, holding a glowing billet in a pair of tongs. He beat it, the ring of metal sharp and piercing, almost painful. His very breath seemed to steam the air and quiver his beard, heating the metal as it stoked the fires about it. He continued to shape the billet, seeming to pay her little attention. To his left and right were to Automata, keeping the fire and presenting him with tools as he worked.

"You still haven't figured it out yet, have you?" He asked.

"You're Hephaestus," she said. "Smith of the Gods."

"Of course," he said, inspecting the metal. "And soon to be Leader of the Olympian Pantheon."

Diana froze.

"You," she said. "It was you?"

He laughed, quenching the metal into a vessel of dark water.

"So surprised!" He commented. "Of course. No one would ever expect the lowly cripple."

He looked at her for the first time, and there was bitterness in His eyes.

"I had such expectations of you, sister," He said. "I thought maybe, maybe that you might figure it out. But you didn't. Of course you wouldn't. If you had, Father would have known."

He inspected the metal again.

Diana found that she was still on the stone, dazed by the transition here. She found her feet and stood.

"How?" she asked.

"'How'?" He asked. "Wouldn't you much rather know why?"

She nodded, "I would like to know both."

He snorted.

"Humans today," He said. "They have come so far. They understand what the Gods take for granted."

"Which is?" she asked.

He smirked, "Your body cannot do everything."

Diana thought about that.

"You are talking about tools," she stated more than asked.

He smiled, "Right you are. Humans have been trying to work around the limitations of their body since before they had big enough brains to do so."

He looked at His leg.

"I can relate," He said bitterly.

"Father cast me out," He said. "Did you know that? I was the oldest, the first of Zeus and Hera's children, and I was born imperfect, so They cast me out, not once but twice! After the first time, I beseeched Mother and convinced Her to change Father's mind. In seeing me do so, Father cast me down from Olympus a second time, claiming I was making advances upon Her."

Taking up a smaller hammer, He beat the metal cold, shaping it more.

"Over time," He spoke, "as our family grew, Father focused less upon my deformity and allowed me to return. From that day forward, I did all I could to earn my place among the Gods, even though not a one had to work so hard to prove their worth. I made for Them Their thrones, and all other tools They might desire. At long last, I thought that I might have been of some help to my Family and received an honored gift in the hand of my now Wife, Aphrodite, but no. I was given marriage to Her to prevent the other Gods from quarreling over Her. Still, tried to find solace in my Bride and peace in having someone so lovely to call my own, and yet, She took more lovers than ever I knew. I tried to catch as many as I could, the chiefest of which was my Brother. Neither shame nor any act on my part could stay Her to me."

He brought up the temperature of the metal again as He continued.

"Still and always, Father ignored me. He saw me as half formed, less in worth than a demigod, and still I persisted. I tried to tell Him of crafts, of workings, of finding means to extend oneself, to become more than what He was, but He would hear me none. At length, I began to detest my Father, to believe Him antiquated and decided that if I could have His seat, I would sit it far better than He ever could."

Once the shaped metal was to temperature, He dipped it into a second vessel of oil, tempering it. The sound it made was intense and grinding, but sounded more of fitting and settling than of destruction.

"And, at length, I found my method," He said.

He inspected the metal.

"I forged a new sort of metal," He explained. "It was a molecule that could perpetuate itself over time, passively, using Eighth Metal to permeate through alloy and create for me a connection between it and my Will, my Power. I broadened it, making it a receptacle for prayer and energy, and then I incorporate it into the most diabolical apparatus that exists."

He once against inspected the metal.

"Industry," he added with a laugh. "I gave this metal to humans, a cheap and dynamic metal that could be used in everything they might need from circuits to frames and structures. Some industrious individuals even used it in modern robotics."

Everything clicked.

The machines in the north. They were filled with this metal. But not only that. Machines, all over the world. Humans relied on those machines, needed them to keep themselves safe and on time and inform and gave them direction and purpose. With the way she had seen some of them used their cell phones, worship seemed an apt description. And Haphaestus had learned to tap that energy for power. And, He could use it to immense effect.

"This place," she said. "It does not naturally occur. You created it, with your power."

He smiled, "You are wise."

She frowned.

"So," she gathered, "you are only using our Brother."

"Of course," he scoffed. "He will do almost anything for power and weapons. And between Him and myself, it was easy to manipulate my Wife into helping as well. Though when I posed our plan to distract you, she was more than happy to do so."

His final inspection of the metal seemed sound, and He turned and set the foot of His metal leg upon a low stone plinth. Playing His fingers about His shin, He seemed to open a section in the side of the metal, and carefully fitted the new piece in place before closing it all up again. Then stepping down, He walked about the floor of the forge. With each step, his limp became less and less noticeable, until it was gone. He grinned.

"Now is the time," he said. "I will face my Father, and I will cast Him out of Olympus and I will sit upon His throne. It is my time."

Diana stood, "I will stop you."

She turned her face to the sky.

"Zeus," she called.

She was met with only silence.

"Hera," she prayed.

Hephaestus only laughed.

She faced Him.

"I will fight you," she proclaimed.

"Truly?" He asked. "And how do you plan to do that?"

The sword in her hand went red hot and she dropped it in surprise. Suddenly, the lasso whipped around, and bound her feet and knees together. She managed to stay upright, until there was a sound like metal under strain and her bracers pulled themselves together behind her back. She toppled.

"You cannot fight me!" He laughed. "You have no tool which I did not give you! You are but a child to me, and you will not stop me."

Reaching down, He looped His finger through and under her belt, lifting her as though she were a slightly awkwardly shaped parcel, overcoming the shape by sheer strength. Walking around to the other side of his forge, He set her on a wide anvil, one for shaping broad, flat sheets of metal.

"You are only a tool yourself," He said, His rough handling rattling Diana's teeth. "But do not worry. I excel at tools. I will make you into a more useful one."

There was a deep thrum of vibration, and suddenly the bracers were pulled apart be a force Diana could not resist, fastening to two corners above and to either side of her head. The golden cord left one of her legs to loop around and under the opposing side of the wide anvil, pulling her legs apart and into place.

Diana had never in her life felt helpless. She strained and pulled until she thought her arms might tear and her legs might give, and still, she was held. He laid a rough, work-callused hand upon the bare skin of her thigh, and she felt a tremor of powerlessness run through her. She could do nothing to stop Him. She was entirely at his mercy, and He could do anything to her. And, He did.


	18. Chapter 18: Failure & Triumph

Diana screamed as best she could. It was a muffled sound, roughed by hours and hours of the same, muted by an entire lack of conviction. Screaming didn't help. It didn't anything. He worked tirelessly, not working faster to minimize her pain or slower to thrill in it. Nothing she did affected Him.

Diana no longer resembled herself. She wasn't sure which injury had done her the most harm. It might have been when He sliced into her limbs, when rather than blood, large cascades of sand poured out of her. It might have been when He started shoving Nth metal bones into her in place of said sand. It might have been when He burned her with a hash vulcanic light as He cauterized her insides as He removed the "artifice" organs He said she would no longer need. It might have been when He injected powdered Nth metal into her heart, the squeezing, agonizing strain of it as she worked it to settle throughout her system. It might have been when he placed an intricate device over her face to maintain nose, eye, and ear holes before he poured the molten mask of Nth over her face.

Diana couldn't endure it. She had long passed her limits for such things as pain and injury. She thought that she would have died sustaining less, and yet she lived, to suffer more. Her mind could not fathom all that was done to her, even experiencing it all. It couldn't fit. There was no place for it. It was beyond the worst things she could have imagined for herself, before getting worse. It kept happening, ceaselessly, and she could not even hold to herself anymore, for herself was not herself anymore. He had taken everything from her, everything that she didn't think it was possible for Him to take; her body, her identity, her voice, the very heart of her. He had made her an object at the mercy of her circumstances, a thing without action or choice.

"Diana," came the voice.

She couldn't see. Her eyes were so swollen, they could not open, so she could not confirm with her other senses the truth of the voice, if it were here or not. It was sad for her to realize that this was not the first time she had doubted the senses or been delusional with all that she had experienced.

"Mother," Diana whispered as best she could with her jaw hardened into place. If Hephaestus heard her, He ignored her, for it was not the first time she had said that word in that way.

"What is wrong, my child?" asked Hera.

Tears welled in Diana's eyes. They steamed in the heat, but still cooled the swelling so that she might see.

"I failed," she said, not sure if her eyes were showing her reality or fantasy.

It was true. Never had she failed. She had not finished that which she had set herself to in the time she desired, but it was the first time she had come up short by skill, by strength, by ability. She was not only unequal to the task, but she had lost, in every sense of the word.

"What does this matter?" asked Artemis. "Failure and your worth are not one and the same."

Diana felt disconnected and far away, empty, and afraid.

"Diana," said Alexa. "You are not alone."

"I am," said Diana. "I am all alone. I am broken. I am-"

"Be silent," said Hephaestus.

Diana quite talking.

"Diana," came his voice. She clamped her eyes shut. She didn't want to see.

"Diana," Steve said again.

She could almost feel his warm hand against her cheek, despite the blistered and melted flesh, despite the metal suffusing what little skin she retained.

"There are two types of people in the world, Angel," he said. "Those that fail and stay down…"

Diana's eyes went from being clenched to being simply closed, relaxed. Her lips murmured, just loud enough to be heard.

"What?" asked Hephaestus.

She barely raised her voice and still could not be heard.

He leaned in and listened hard.

"You haven't…" she spoke before it fell away too.

He put His ear nearly to the metal about her mouth.

"…won," she said.

The blow nearly knocked Him from His feet. In his daze, the cord slipped one of her ankles, and in a pair of trusts to the flat metal, her legs came up, one knee and then the other connecting with his skull before the first leg thrust a second time and she kicked him in the face. Then, as he fell back, smarting and holding the side of his face, she braced herself and pulled.

There was resistant resonance, as though to opposing forces that were of her bracers were working against themselves, causing the metal to vibrate not just the surrounding air, but the anvil and floor and Diana as well. She gritted herself to the task, and pulled, bowing up from the surface that held her, her arms straining with the force of it. There was a sound like ropes giving way under tension and buckling steel as she pulled, and still, she persisted. Then with a chink and a crack, and then a mighty grind, then an explosion of shattered and rent metal, the bracers fell away.

There was a detonation of golden light, a praxis wave that shoved all lose implements and individuals other than Diana herself back in every direction away from her. The anvil crack and slummed in twain, leaving her hanging in the air. A flurry of golden-white light arced about her, mirrored in her white glowing eyes and the halos that ringed her head, feet, and fists. Then, with a great surge, she inhaled with such force that the eddies it cause in the air were visible about the silvered metal that masked her face. And, with an almighty roar, she screamed her defiance at Hephaestus, spitting red hot shards of the mask at him, leaving most of her face free and clears, save for a few lingering fragments down the right side of her face and forehead.

Hephaestus held up His hand and kept His feet, despite her voice thrusting Him back. Only His will and upturned second hand kept Him from touching the far wall. She stepped upon the open air as though it were a staircase and stepped down and against until she met the floor, each motion full of grace and radiating power and fury.

"Enough," He said, talking up a large hammer, He stepped across the space between them and whipped the implement into her. She caught the face of it upon a single hand, and it was as though all force transferred through he without leaving a single effect upon her. The floor shattered out behind her feet and up the wall, as though her shadow had cast the blow out behind her as she moved not at all.

Still holding the hammer in her single hand, despite His attempts to pull it back or through her off, she used her off hand to take one of the fragments of metal still clinging to her face.

"Nth metal," she said, her voice calm, almost instructive. "Yet all your power was infused into Eighth metal. You used it, no doubt, to throw off any who might investigate you. For if you had used Nth, something only a God of Craft could easily manipulate, then you would be discovered directly. Yet here, now, you couldn't let such an inferior alloy be used in crafting me, your price, your pride, the representation of your ability to subvert Father's will to your own ends. But, in doing so without truly breaking my will, you have made me unyielding to your Power and influence, even here in your own realm."

She plucked the hammer from his hand and cast it down.

"Now," she said, her voice vast and seeming to permeate everything as the heat in her eyes grow so violent that it sparked a webwork of lightning cracks down her face from her eyes and sent her matted and burnt hair flapping back away from her face, "let us finish this!"

Diana was left with no weapons but her fists. She was about to land a blow upon His face with the entire weight of her body and power behind it, but Hephaestus was not the God of Crafts for nothing. His leg, seemingly composed entirely of Nth metal, pushed off the ground at an angle that know natural foot and leg could accomplish, moving Him sideways out of the range of her arm. Once He had landed on His off leg, he kicked at her with her metallic one, only it didn't remain as it was. It snaked at her, waving through the air as His foot became akin to a hand, grabbing her wrist and pulling her around through the air. Her entire body rolled through the air, striking down before yawing around into a pillar nearby. Diana kicked off with her legs and her free arm, slipping the grasp of His hand/foot and landing next to a rack of weapons. Taking up a Kopis, Diana went spinning through the air after Him, but not before He beckoned and a single handed hammer found His fist and blocked the blows from her curved blade in quick succession. After a series of well timed parries and reposts, Hephaestus hooked His hammer around the blade and pulled it from her hand. As Diana backflipped backward for another weapon, the tide turned.

As Diana picked up a pair of Xiphoi, she whipped them each around in a circle, only to find that He was no longer standing where He had been. He was standing in what appeared to be a precisely determined spot, even shifting His footing and weight here and there, as though trying to find the exact spot He needed to be. Then, standing tall, His leg changed, seeming to fragment into two vertical perpendicular flats of irregular teeth. A X opened in the floor, and He slid His leg into it, each flat filling a stroke of the X. He knelt as he lowered His leg and twisted at certain depths, turning around His leg in a prescribed degree. At last, He finished, and some apparatus beneath the floor began to work.

He slid back up to His original height and then some, and as He did, a boot of Nth metal the same length as His leg, when it wasn't so stretched, came up from a compartment and slid to a stop for easy insertion. It was noticeably thicker and as Hephaestus slid his leg into it, it closed to the exact size as his augmented leg with the sound of snapping and grinding bone. Vein-line tendrils bloomed from both and latched themselves into the tops of His thighs, as though becoming one with His flesh. Then with a shivering wave from top to bottom, His legs became something that made him look faun-like until Diana noticed that the hooves were in fact blunt, thick toes that were as dexterous as any fingers.

He bowed, as though becoming a beast, bound on all fours, but this was another step in His process. His arms entered gauntlets of Nth, with odd markings upon the outer forearm, two crescents that looked to be the edges of a circle too large to be drawn in full that began at the wrist and ended near the elbow, and two lines within said circle, nearly parallel that just noticeably tapered from elbow to wrist. Next came an odd cuirass that looks large and made of many interlocking plates. As it closed about His torso, locking Him inside, it gave a jerking twitch and came to life. It flexed easily and perfectly with His every movement, and swelled and contracted as though it were breathing for Him, with Him, vents opening in its sides where air could be seen visible shifting as He and It inhaled and exhaled. Lastly came a helm, in high contrast to the rest of the armor, for it looked more or less like a piece of irregular black stone vaguely chipped into the Corinthian style. It was shaped with an artistic asymmetry, shot through with veins of ever flowing yet never leaking magma, which burned and intensified with every exhale He and the cuirass made.

This was all done in the time it took Diana to see what was happening and to close with Him. Leaping through the air, she brought her offhand short sword down at his head, wasting no more time. He lifted a gauntlet, and she was surprised that her blow fell short. The circle that had been etched into the Nth of it had grown, a circle of curving light that formed the undeniable outline of a shield in the air, holding her blow a bay. He punched His fist at her with His off hand, and instinctively, she blocked at it with her other blade, finding firstly, that He could pass through his light shield without resistance, and secondly, that the second etching created a blade as the other created a shield, only it was completely unseen and while the Xiphos was able to turn it, it did so by allowing itself to be sheared in twain by the invisible edge.

Diana was quickly upon the defensive, trying to find ground to think. He came at her, time and again, and it was all she could do to not be cleaved in half while she tried to come up with a plan. His own implements, weapons and tools of forging, were no match to the ethereal blades. She was alone, in the sense that no God or Goddess could hear her in this place. She could not fly by Hermes or be Strengthen by Hera or hear Athena's wisdom or be guided by Artemis. She was to do this on her own.

Dodging and evasion worked well enough for her at first. Strong as his weapons were, she still faced a God, in His own realm. Every blow she landed was healed, often before a second could land. She finally pushed hard, trying to overbear Him. She trusted a spear through Him before stepping around His guard and stabbing him a second time with a sword before relinquishing both weapons to catch His arms, holding Him and pushing to throw Him over backwards by main strength. He suddenly laughed and exhaled.

His breath hissed out of Him, which was to say that it came out in a forced blast of spitting heat. Sparks flew from it and vapor trails short through it, and it hit Diana like a flood. It burned unlike anything she felt before. Her skin didn't blister; it melted, running off her in long, runny tendrils, hitting the floor where it pooled to spots of molten glass. She could not stand up to it.

Finally, throwing Him down, she withdrew. In His undeniable supremacy, He took his time to stand and come at her again.

Diana stood apart from Him. She looked at Him. She knew that there must be a way to defeat Him, even here. She considered; He was a God, a God of Crafts, of the Volcano, of Fire. She was more Goddess than every demigod she had ever heard of, yet she had no specialities. What she did have was mortality. And in that, she knew the answer.

Reaching out, she leaped, just making it clear of another one of His volcanic breath blasts. Her hand extended, she rolled, catching up the golden lariat. Once on her feet, she dove away again, just making out of the range of another one of His attacks. As she sailed through the air, she released all concerns for the outside world. Holding the cord in both her hands, she curved her body protectively around it, closing her eyes.

The lasso felt warm within her grasp. She felt it, could feel down into it, as though it were a part of her. She could feel Him, his threads, his influence within it. She pressed herself into it, down, threading herself, her thoughts, her truth, her heart through it, displacing His, shoving Him out, unhooking Him, and with a snap of released tension, the lasso was hers again.

It lit up like her, like her light, her power, as she turned and looped it through the air. It caught Him about His wrist, and though it encircled His sightless blade and His shield, it was not damaged. She pulled Him off His feet and around, slamming him through one, two, three pillars of stone and into a wall. He found His feet and spun, throwing her around in turn. She reached out a hand and slapped the floor in passing, causing her to move perpendicularly and catch the cord upon the remnant of one of the pillars, flipping her around the point of contact and directly at Him, using the momentum He had imparted on her to punch Him in the side of His head. Stepping behind him, she caught Him around the middle and bend over backwards, suplexing Him into the ground. Before He could recover from the impact, she was back, grabbing Him by the ankle and hurling him at the nearest wall. He cratored magnificently, and just long enough to realize that she had tied off His ankle in passing. She pulled, and the lasso tugged him around to closeline into her offered arm, knocking the helm from His head.

He struck hard against the stone of the floor, dazed and momentarially without fight in Him. She gathered up her lasso, her uniform in tatters, her hair half cut and burned away, her flesh melted, shards of Nth still clung to her face, her light and power burning within her eyes, emanating from her skin. She leaned over Him and glowered.

"I have and will always best you," she said. "You may be a God, but am Goddess and mortal both. I have all of your power and all of my freedom, my flexibility, my right to choice, to build of my life what I will of it. You have no power over me. I will never be your tool."

He stared at her, and then, slowly and deeply, He began to laugh.

"You think you've won?" He asked, getting slowly to his feet. "We have only just begun. This is my realm! I have weapons here that you haven't even dreamt of. I have you. And I will hold you until there is nothing left. You will be honed and sharpened until you are not but what I wish you to be. You aren't going anywhere."

Diana looked at him cooly. Then gave him a little smile.

"So you say," she said.

Holding the lasso in one fist, she closed her eyes. Reaching deep, she found the depths of herself. In this place, her power could rove free, as it had done on Olympus. She found the threads that looped through her being, the strings that held her here to this time and place.

"What?" He suddenly demanded, eyeing her.

She felt those threads and begin to twitch them, to tug them this way and that, to test them.

"You do not know what you are doing!" He cried. "You could destroy yourself!"

She smiled deeper.

"True," she said. "But that is still better than remaining here, with you."

His scream erupted as she shimmered and vanished.


	19. Chapter 19: In Time

Diana was on Earth, she knew it, if only because she remembered the feeling. It was as it had been in the Underworld Sanctum, when her power had first been loosed. It was burning, and she no longer had bracers to keep it at bay within her. She would die if she did not act quickly. But as it was, action was taken for her.

She was suddenly in a maternal embrace. As soon as she was, she knew whose embrace it was, for her power ebbed and she was no longer in pain.

"Mother," she whispered through cracked lips.

"Shhh," shushed Hera.

Diana felt Her power radiate down upon her, and she was fitted back together. Her melted flesh ran back to its proper place, her hair filled in and grew out, the bits of metal falling away from her face. She felt the cavity of her body fill with all the proper organs in their proper place, but she felt all the Nth metal remain, if its orientation adjusted a bit. It left her feeling whole and well and also stronger than she had ever felt in her life.

She opened her eyes, and found that she was laid upon a bed of white cloth, the smoothest and softest fabric she had ever felt in her life. Hera was there, leaning over her, Her hand on her cheek. Her expression was serious and adoring.

"You have done so well, Daughter," She said. "I know now what you have discovered and who is behind this and why. We can stop him now, together."

Diana nodded, "Zeu-"

She found her lips together and her jaw unmoving, and Hera gave her a sharp look.

"Do not speak that name," She said, "lest you should undo all that I have done."

Diana came up short, looking at her Mother.

"You don't want me to tell Him?" she asked. "Why ever not?"

Hera stood. She walked to a nearby table and pick up a pitcher, filling a cup and bringing it to Diana. She drank, and it was the coolest, clearest, cleanest, most quenching draft she had ever partaken of.

"Diana," said Hera, "Daughter mine. You do not understand all that is happening here. I cannot explain it all. I haven't the right and it would be unjust for me to force knowledge up you in this instance, because you truly do not know what it is you ask."

Diana frowned, "Must I know?"

Hera smiled, "Wise, Daughter. And yes. It is the place of all truly responsible parents to make any decision for their children if said child cannot understand the consequences of that decision. Children are here to learn, to try new things, to make decisions and fail, letting consequences teach them as much as parents. But some consequences are too big, are disproportionate to the choice made. You ask to be informed, but wise as you are, you are not ready to know this."

Diana considered.

"What am I ready to know?" she asked.

Hera smiled, "Your faith is admirable."

She took Diana's hand and brought her to a bathing pool. The space in which they were seemed not to have walls, but only pillars, holding up stones that provide shade during the day. As it was, it did little to keep out the calming blue light of the stars and moon, still visible even with the warm glow of the ensconced torches that hung upon the collumbs.

Diana found the pool calming and cool, and she washed off the ash, the grime, and all remnants of that place from her skin. As she settled in, Hera washed her hair, pulling a careful brush through it.

"We are not yet finished in our task," She said. "We must not allow Him to usper the throne as He wishes. However, His power is enough that even I cannot reach Him. But you can. Or rather, you did."

Diana thought over those words.

"You mean that He is in a location that you cannot reach," she said, "but I was able to get out of it?"

"Close," smiled Hera. "You were able to get into it."

Diana narrowed her brows, thinking.

"I don't understand," she said.

Hera smiled, "Time is not a river that exclusively flows one way."

Diana's brows lifted.

"You mean to say that you wish to enter His realm when I do, I did?" she asked.

Hera smiled, kissing the top of her head, "Still so very bright. Yes, Daughter. I wish to pull us both back through the river of time. Once there, when you are pulled into that realm, you will take me with you."

Diana breathed.

"So, all of this," she gestured to herself, "won't have happened to me?"

Hera smiled, "It will, just not in this time. His place, His realm, exists outside of this one, which is part of the reason why I can flow up through time and pull you with me. He has caused a disconnect that has caused time and the laws that govern it to bleed. The damage he has caused will have adverse effects that even I cannot fully understand. When we arrive, there will not be another you. You will simply take the place of who you were then, with all the alterations and knowledge you have now. You must do as you did before, and when He will pull you through, I will take your hand and you will hold me to you as you go through as well."

Diana nodded, "Yes, Mother. I can do this."

Hera smiled.

"I have a gift for you," She said. "They are not nearly so good as what you had, but they will do until you can make your own again."

She took two loops of braided silver and set them around her wrists. They were as her bracers had been on Olympus, yet thinner. Diana marveled, considering all that Hera's words implied. Hera helped her from the pool and dried her, finding joy in doting upon her.

"Are you ready?" She asked.

Diana nodded. Hera took her hand.

A door opened in the back of Diana's mind, a bridge forming, connecting her to pathways of perception she never knew she had. She could see it, so much more than was around her, but certainly not everything. She could see Kasnia, everything that The Annihilator had done. She could see the armies waiting in reserve, ready to fight. She could see herself fighting, fighting The Annihilator, casting it away, fighting Ares.

Suddenly, she was not longer stationary. She was moving, with Hera, moving back through time. She could see the stream of it, the path time took, the forks of all the decisions not taken, the paths withering to nothing as they were not taken. She could see the flow of everything in the moments. She watched from every conceivable angle as Steve died.

NO!

She did not voice the word, for she didn't seem to have a body to voice it. She suddenly found herself under her own power, and as Hera stopped, just before the moment Hephaestus took her, Diana kept going.

"I am War, you dull creature!" Ares roared, holding Diana by her hair. "You will never-"

Diana remembered this. Twisting against her gripped hair, she turned, whipping her sword neatly through the air, and through the wrist of the hand that held her.

Landing with one knee bent, the sword held out beside her, she looked, searching for where the shots would come from.

As soon as the volley of gunfire came, she was ready. Ares spat, hefted His spear, smirking.

"That is for your pride," He said to her as He threw, suddenly confused by the fact that she was facing that direction already. He could have just as easily thrown the spear at her, but He hadn't considered. No enemy would so willing expose themselves like that.

Diana flew, without even a whisper to Hermes. She knew her power now, and it was not so checked by these, thinner, smaller bracers. She flew a great speed, and overbore the spear. She just missed catching it, able to knock it off course. It pierced the console of the plane, and suddenly it was spinning, completely out of control. Diana dove through it, not waiting for Steve to eject. She caught him up, twisting so that her back exited first and saved him from injury as they tore their way out. They dove for the ground, and she landed with him in her arms.

"Steve?" she asked, looking at his face. "Are you alright?"

There was a certain blankness to his face, his eyes unsure what they were seeing.

"I… I don't… what… this isn't…" he said, his words slurred.

"You're in shock," she said. "Stay here. Stay out of sight."

She turned, and saw Ares, spying her in turn. She took up her sword and went straight for him.

"Now," Hera whispered.

Diana felt her hand close around Hera's and then, they were through.

Hephaestus' Haven was as it had been before. He stood where He had before, at His forge.

"Well, well, well," He said. "You were-"

He froze. Hera stood beside Diana.

"Mother?" He asked. "How-? You-"

She was suddenly before Him, towering over Him, more than a head taller than His already impressive height.

"No!" He cried. "Mother no! It isn't what you think!"

Her expression was furious, hard, and yet understanding, as though She knew that all He had done was inevitable but not excusable.

"There are two ways this can go," She said. "You can turn this ill-begotten power over to me, or I can take it from you."

"I'm more powerful than Father now," He said, almost petulantly.

She raised an eyebrow, "And you think to use that power against me?"

He shrank, "No. Of course not, Mother."

She held out Her hand. He reluctantly place His in Hers.

There was a rustle, as though a wind move through the room yet no wind was felt.

"Now," said Hera gravely, "consequences."

"Consequences?" asked Hephaestus, and then, in a rush of flame and a cry of agony, He was gone.

"Where did you send Him?" asked Diana.

Hera, returned to the height she had been upon catching Diana leaving this place.

"To his room," She said simply. Diana understood that it was metaphorical. As Ares had the chains in the Underworld Sanctum, there was doubtless a place for the God of Smiths to be held after His malfeasances. Diana suddenly wondered if she had such a place already established for her. She suddenly wondered if she would be going there now.

"Are you very angry with me?" she asked her Mother.

Hera took a deep breath and looked at her with understanding and only the barest hint of regret.

"I am not angry with you," She said. "The deeds you have done here are great, and anything that you have done that was selfish does not negate them. But you have wronged. Though in this particular case, the consequences will not come from me."

Diana was not sure what She meant.

"Can you explain more?" she asked.

Hera smiled, "Zeus would never stand for Hephaestus' treachery. It would have meant war, which would have divided the Pantheon and left Us open to attack."

She looked at Diana, almost purposefully, "We are not the most powerful beings out there. Often the best defense to such forces is to show a united front."

Diana nodded.

"Zeus can never know about this," She said. "It will cost too much. I will placate Him with gifts of sex and power and Hephaestus's wareguild. You need not see Him again to let Him know that your mission is complete. I will handle everything."

Diana nodded, "What about my things?"

Hera smiled. Walking to one side, she opened a panel in the wall. Inside was a stash of Nth metal ingots.

"These are for your trouble," She said. "I will guide your hand as you build with them, and while I am not nearly so skilled as my Son, I can help you make what you need."

Diana found a satchel and loaded the ingots into them.

"What of Earth?" she asked. "The infrastructure Hephaestus used to gather power?"

"Already disbursed," Hera said. "Should such a threat arise again, I have complete faith that you can handle it."

She hugged Diana.

"I am proud of you," She said to Her daughter.

And together, they vanished.


	20. Epilogue

"It is done?" asked Bruce. He looked different today, what with the green eyes, blonde hair and common athletics clothing. He appeared to be finishing up a jog, his stubbed thick.

"It is done," said Diana, sitting across the booth from him. The coffee was indeed a wonder to her, and she sipped, enjoying the concoction of milk and sugar and how it swirled and intermingled.

Clark walked up. He looked like himself, which was to say he was dressed in a loose fitting suit and glasses and walked as a man who had never known a battle. Diana felt nice in her cotton pants and thin sweater.

"Any chance it will happen again?" he asked, as though he had been there the whole time.

"Of course there is a chance," said Diana. "That is kind of the point of this little meeting."

Clark sat beside Bruce, who managed to roll his eyes in a way that Clark didn't see, for his eyes were not pointed at the back of Bruce's head.

Clark gestured and the waitress came over.

"What'll it be?" she asked efficiently.

"Coffee, eggs, sunny side up, two pancakes, and a slice of pie, don't care which," he said, not even bothering to look at the menu.

She didn't need a pen. She returned in a moment and poured the coffee, and Clark reached for the honey. As soon as she was gone, they continued.

"Waller?" asked Bruce.

"Had a good idea," said Diana. "Who knows what we might face next. It might be something we cannot handle alone."

"You will always have my support," said Clark. "And if I need help…"

He smiled, "I just hope I am not too busy to ask this time."

Bruce barely hid a smile, "Lois had it under control. I barely did a thing."

Diana smiled, "I will have to hear about that one sometime. But for now, we still have a few ends to tie up."

"The Annihilator?" asked Bruce.

"Argus has it," said Diana. "Without Ares having a hand in it, it takes a lot to power."

Bruce nodded, "They won't use it, not for a while. They have no way of controlling it, and no one wants to take the flack for unleashing an uncontrollable killing machine."

Clark nodded, "I agree. But they will try to reverse engineer it. If even a fraction of that technology fell into the wrong hands..."

Diana straightened, "I am not entirely sure that Waller's is the wrong hands."

They both stared at her.

"She acts in her own best interests," she said, "but that also means big picture. I don't agree with her tendency to treat people as pieces on a chess board, that sacrifice is necessary, but she will function in the best interest of the people over all. I can respect that, at the very least."

Bruce looked at Clark, "I am sure there was a time when you would have said the same about me."

Clark smiled, "Still do, at times. But I know you. I know your heart is in the right place. I am not convinced hers is."

"That's okay," said Diana. "If she should take it too far, we will be there. Not before."

All three nodded.

"Not before," said Bruce.

"So what does that mean for us?" asked Clark.

"We stay in communication," said Diana. "If anything happens, we let the others know."

Clark looked over at Bruce, "And by that, I think you mean Bruce will let us know."

Bruce sipped his coffee. The others smirked.

"I will keep my eyes and ears open too," said Clark.

Diana leaned back, "And I apparently have an entire information gathering department at my disposal."

Bruce snorted quietly.

"There is something to be said for quantity over quality," said Clark with a smile.

Bruce looked sideways at him, "You're lucky I don't stoop to innuendo."

Clark went a little pink.

"Aren't you supposed to be under cover?" Diana asked.

"You're right," Bruce conceded, sipping his coffee, adding, "That's what she said."

Clark went pinker.

The waitress brought Clark his food. He thanked her as she refilled the coffees.

"How is Steve?" asked Clark as he put his napkin in his lap.

Diana winced, "Odd."

"How so?" asked Bruce.

"He does talk much," she said. "He doesn't do much. The other day, I came over to his apartment, and he was just sitting in the dark. I think the near death experience had more of an affect on him than I thought."

Clark nodded, "It happens. He will come around. But even if he doesn't, there are plenty of people out there who can help him."

She nodded, "Thank you."

Bruce resettled himself, "Anything on the horizon?"

Clark bobbed his head, "I am doing that mission with Nasa to bring back soil samples from Mars. That should be interesting."

Diana nodded, "I am about to return to Themyscira to reforge my bracers and my weapons. I am looking forward to spending some time at home."

They both nodded.

"We will be sure to keep an eye on things while you are away," said Bruce.

There was a moment of pause.

"What about recruiting?" asked Clark.

"Recruiting?" asked Diana.

Clark nodded, "We are three, but we could be more."

Bruce frowned, "I don't play well with others."

Clark smiled, "You get along well enough with us."

"I trust you," said Bruce. "I know you. The greater that number becomes, the better the chance we will get stabbed in the back."

Diana nodded, "Well, then, you will just have to vet them properly, now won't you?"

Clark nearly laughed. Bruce frowned, if only to hide a smile.

"You really are a diplomat," he said, finally grinning.

Diana smiled, "A team would be good. Good for morale, for support. I am sure that there are some people out there who would be only too happy to help us."

Bruce frowned, "That is what I am afraid of."

Amanda Waller looked over her file on The Annihilator.

"What is the status?" she asked.

"Offline," said the teleconferenced General Lane. "We were able to find the seams and opened it, but we can't make sense of the insides."

She considered, "Who is in the field of nano-robotics that we can acquire for the project?"

"There's Ray Palmer," said Megala's hologram. "But I don't think he has the right temperament for the project."

Waller thought about it, then said, "Pilfer the pool of Luthor employees that were let go or quit after he went to jail."

There was a moment as Megala looked at a side screen and typed.

"Ah," he said finally, "Arthur Ivo. He is perfect."

"Get him in," said Waller. "The usually N.D.A. and pressures."

"Got it," said Captain Flag from a speaker, casting no image. "Requisitioning a team now."

Waller pushed a button and Flag was removed from the call.

"How are things coming with Project Checkmate?" asked Lane.

"Captain Adam is perfect for the atomic project," she said, "but he is squeaky clean."

"That is the way we like them," said Lane.

"But he has no reason to volunteer for a potentially life threatening project," said Megala.

"We will just have to give him a reason," said Waller. "Project Galatea is in its trial stages. We will know if we have any viable samples in a few weeks."

Lane frowned, "And what about your little pet project?"

"Task Force X has come a long way," said Waller. "The injectors and their package are working correctly now. All we need now are… recruits."

Lane nodded, "I still don't like it."

"You don't have to, General," she said. "But your reluctance is noted. Again."

He's frown deepened.

"What about Luthor?" asked Waller. "Is he still moving ahead?"

General Lane looked disgusted.

"Yes," he said. "He is calling for a full acquittal. Testimonials begin next week."

"Are the rumors true?" asked Megala. "Is he really seeking to enter politics?"

"One step at a time," said Waller.

Hera stood in a realm of darkness, all that was left of the realm Her son had created. As She stood and waited, Fate arrived.

"Doctor," She said.

"Lady Hera," he said, bowing respectfully. "What news?"

Hera felt tired. She bowed Her head.

"Hephaestus is in seclusion," She said. "He will be ready to return as soon as he understands how to escape his bonds, as Ares did."

"As I understand, that didn't work out too well," said Fate, resting his fist under the chin of his golden helm. "Aresia may yet be a force of evil in this world."

"Or an avenue of redemption for more than just herself," said Hera.

"What of the power Hephaestus amassed?" asked Fate. "It has shifted the balance of power greatly. Any more so and the Barriers wouldn't have fallen and The Old Ones would have returned."

Hera sighed, "As it is, this place was created with the power my Son possessed. It was done so to the best of his knowledge and abilities, which is to say not well."

Fate knelt and put his hand to the darkness one might call a floor. He reached out with his feelings and knew of what she spoke.

"By all the Gods," he whispered. "He shoved it into being, displacing Spacetime. There is an instability here. It goes…"

"All the way to The Source Wall," said Hera, sadly.

"What will this mean?" he asked.

She closed her eyes, "Evil, long held at bay may some day soon return."


End file.
